My Life In Another Dimension Original
by Soxman
Summary: "What on Earth?" Welcome Harry Potter to a different dimension. The rules- are they the same? Are they different? And what of Dumbledore? This fanfic is being revised. Please see the other story with the same title.
1. Chapter 1

AN: My take on the Harry goes to a different dimension concept. Coming soon: my attention is currently elsewhere. Insipred by Nonjon's_ A Black Comedy_. I do not own Harry Potter.

Prologue: Welcome Back Potter

"Well this is an interesting way to wake up," Harry commented lightly. He was tied to a chair with his wand removed, and surrounded by a fearful crowd. Said crowd consisted of one old man with a flowing white beard, at tall, thin man with untidy black hair, and glasses that covered hazel brown eyes, a woman with long, flowing dark red hair that fell past her shoulders and familiar bright green eyes, an exact replica of Sirius Black down to the long flowing hair, another of Remus Lupin complete with pale face and mustache, Snivellus Snape prowling around in the corner in all his greasy glory, and several younger versions with mixed features sprinkled around the room. Harry counted eight children in all, and fifteen people in all, including an unknown woman standing next to Remus. "I wouldn't happen to be dead, would I?"

"Not to my knowledge sir," declared the old man, whose robes resembled something right out of Albus Dumbledore's wardrobe.

"If I didn't know better, I'd mistake you for Albus Dumbledore," Harry commented.

"What makes you think you wouldn't know better?" he replied.

"You also have the cryptic dialogue down to a science as well. Impressive," Harry commented. He looked around the room. "So I am apparently tied to a chair and surrounded by several unknown people, including a Dumbledore wannabe, in something resembling my old office. Interesting."

"Your old office?" the reincarnation of Remus Lupin questioned.

"Yes, when I was headmaster of this school." He spied a familiar firebird in the corner. "Gee, Fawkes is even still here. FAWKES!" The phoenix appeared on his shoulder in a burst of flame and began trilling. "So if I'm not dead, and I haven't ingested any hallucinogens, then how did I get here, and why are you all here?" He turned to the right to stare at his old trusty phoenix. "Care to answer, buddy?"

Fawkes trilled a few bars. "Dimension traveling? I do believe you are having me on, old boy."

The phoenix trilled angrily in response. "So if I understand you correctly, I am supposed to be in the very same room as Albus Dumbledore, James Potter, Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, his wife Sarah, and various children." Fawkes trilled. "Oh yeah, and how could I forget batman." The bat glowered angrily while the supposed Marauders present laughed involuntarily. "Just out of curiosity, this isn't a payback prank for that time I spiked your jalapeños with marijuana, right?" Fawkes trilled angrily. "Marijuana? You heard something about marijuana? You might want to get your hearing checked. I didn't hear anyone say that word, and I am certainly not about to tell anyone about how in a haze of weed you pursued an owl who you claimed was the love of your life."

Pseudo-Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, while this is interesting, perhaps you would be so kind as to introduce yourself."

"Full introduction? You haven't heard of me?" Dumbledore shook his head. "All right. I am Harry Potter the-"

"Excuse me, please. Harry Potter?" Dumbledore questioned with a shocked look on his face. His shock was mimicked on every face in the room.

"I was born Harold James Potter," Harry repeated. "Anyway-"

"Pardon another interruption, but the one Harry Potter I am aware of is unfortunately deceased," Dumbledore interrupted once more.

"Okay Fawksie, perhaps you weren't having me on with the dimension traveling bit," Harry commented lightly. "Well, you seem to believe you're alive, so I must be alive if I am sitting here, tied to a chair."

Dumbledore seemed lost for words. "You were saying?" Sirius Black asked.

"Ah yes. As I was saying, Harold James Potter, order of Merlin first class, defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort, retired master auror, former tenured Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, former headmaster of Hogwarts, former British Minister of Magic, retired chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, presiding Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Lord of the houses of Potter and Black, and also magical Britain's current ambassador the United States." He turned to Fawkes amidst the renewed stared. "Did I leave anything out?" Fawkes trilled.

The ropes binding Harry fell off as he examined his hands. "Oh, are you bloody kidding me! I'm a teenager! Again! Just what I needed, preclusion from thinking clearly." He held out his hand, and his wand, which was sitting idly on the desk beside Dumbledore, flew into his hand. "Are my clothes at least decent, Fawksie?" The phoenix trilled in answer, and Harry groaned. He waved his wand, and his white undershirt and boxers became covered by a black shirt, a sports coat, and a pair of black pants. "Thanks."

"Why didn't you just free yourself five minutes ago?" demanded Snape.

"Possibly because we were having such a pleasant chat," Harry replied. He turned to the still stunned crowd. "So I am somehow in a different universe. Thankfully, Fawkes is here with me or I would have lost my mind." Fawkes' trill sounded like a laugh. "Yes turkey, we all know how I rely on you," Harry said dryly.

"You are my son?" Lily Potter asked with tears in her eyes.

Harry thought for a second. "I don't want to say this, but I feel I must level with you. I am a different version of your son. A version that spent seventeen years with Petunia and Vernon, fought Voldemort or prepared to at least once a year throughout Hogwarts, and then at the end, decided to try and find that next great challenge. So really, I'm not." She looked ready to cry.

"How did you come to be here?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shrugged. "I was actually sitting in my house reading one minute, unconscious the next, and being woken up while tied in a chair the third. Any ideas, flaming turkey?"

Fawkes trilled angrily. Harry stared back at him. Fawkes resignedly trilled again.

"All right, he has no idea. Must have been something on your end," Harry concluded.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "While unusual, perhaps your timing is especially fortunate. In your introduction you described defeating the dark lord Voldemort. Unfortunately, if indeed your different universe theory is true, he has just succeeded to returning to a body here."

"Give me a rundown of events, starting with my death," Harry commanded.

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "Er, on Halloween of 1981, Voldemort attacked your home in Godric's Hollow. You died to break his power."

"So who did you elevate to be the boy-who-lived?' Harry asked neutrally.

"Why do you-"

"If you are in fact Albus Dumbledore, and all that's changed here is that I died while my parents lived, then we will have a chat about your former association with Gellert," Harry declared menacingly. Dumbledore paled. "That's why I assume you replaced someone else on the mantle."

"Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore replied quietly. And rather mournfully.

"You just got done with the Tri-Wizard tournament?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded bewildered. "Let me guess, Voldemort returned to power, but because Neville wasn't the "chosen one" his body was sent back as a message, right?" Dumbledore nodded, again bewildered. "That rather mimics my own fate, except I managed to escape from the graveyard of Little Hagleton. Did you at least discover Barty Crouch Jr.?"

"Yes, he attempted to assassinate me during the panic Neville's body caused," Dumbledore replied.

"Alastor's fine?" Harry queried.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow.

"How about Ginerva Weasley?" Harry continued.

"She has recovered nicely from the-"

"Yes, Chamber of Secrets; Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor," Harry interrupted. He stared at Dumbledore. "Saved her, did you?" He nodded. "And I'm assuming Quirell kicked it. So it appears everything is the same except your shit out of luck when it comes to a savior. Oh, what happened with Cedric?"

"He's alive", Dumbledore answered.

Harry shrugged. "So let's talk price."

"Price?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose dangerously. Mouths fell open around the room.

"Yes price. You want a service done; I can get it done," Harry replied.

"I assumed-"

"Let me guess, you assumed dueling with Dark Lords was a labor of love? It isn't. I have somehow fallen into a different universe, and all I have are my wand, an undershirt, my boxers, and our favorite flaming turkey, who by the way, is not going to be you familiar any longer. His choice, not mine; we have a longer history together. So I'm clearly being unreasonable," Harry declared dryly.

"How do we know you are even qualified?" Snape snapped.

Harry turned to him neutrally. "1. I've defeated him once before. 2. I also took out the LeStranges, Dolohov, and most of the other inner circle members. 3. I did that before eighteen. 4. I've had over eighty years since then to improve. 5. I was considered the most powerful wizard in the world in my former universe. 6. I was twelve time running winner of the World Dueling Championship. 7. I have a phoenix; ward protection goes out the window. Finally, you got anyone else lined up?"

"No but still Harry, I can't in good conscience pay for your services," Dumbledore replied.

"Fair enough. Good day gentlemen, ladies" He grabbed onto Fawkes tail feathers before anyone could react, and he disappeared in a flash of fire.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," Dumbledore commented as Harry disappeared.

"Mum? What just happened?" asked Lily's oldest daughter Rosian.

"Was that really… Harry?" Sirius croaked.

Dumbledore sighed and took his seat. "That was an alternate dimension's version of Harry, one where he lived a long life and assumed my role as the British representation on the World Stage."

"But he seemed so…" Sarah couldn't finish her thought.

"Unconcerned? Insane? Lacking for familial bonding?" James added helpfully.

"He wanted to be paid to kill Death Eaters! He's no better than any other hired wand!" snarled Remus.

"Really Remus? He has just been transported to an alternate dimension, and he has to apparently deal with Voldemort… again. I'd want money as well," Lily defended.

"Where did he go?" asked James Jr.

"I have no idea," Dumbledore replied. He looked mournfully at Fawkes perch. "He seemed closer to Fawkes than I ever was. He even got away with calling him a turkey," Dumbledore moped.

"How can we be sure whose side he's really on, Headmaster?" Snape asked softly.

"That's my son you're talking about!" shouted James and Lily in unison. They looked at each other and blushed.

"Severus, if he was really a Death Eater, than why would Fawkes leave with him? Phoenix's are well known creatures of light," Dumbledore pointed out gently.

"So to sum this up," Remus's daughter Mary interjected, "We have another version of Harry Potter, an apparently dangerous and extremely skilled man, loose, we have no idea what he is doing, and he's taken Fawkes with him. This won't end well."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I don't own harry Potter. This work was inspired by Nonjon's _A Black Comedy_.

Chapter One: Goblins And Guilt Trips

"Hello King Ragnok!" Harry greeted cheerfully as he plopped into a chair opposite the goblin king. Ragnok raised one gnarled eyebrow.

"Let's see, in order: Who are you? Why are you in my office? And why should I even care? Oh, and I've just summoned my guards so you have perhaps thirty seconds to answer," Ragnok responded gruffly.

"Who am I? Harry James Potter, not the one from 1981; rather, I'm here courtesy of another dimension. Why am I here? Let's call it aggressive negotiations. Why should you care? Well, business with me could equal profit and security in the long-term. Or I could kill you and your people to make a point if you piss me off. Is time up?" Harry asked innocently as he waved his hand and the door slammed and sealed. The angry snarls of the goblin warriors outside were quite audible from within the majestic office.

"No apparently you've bought yourself more time," Ragnok commented lightly, while pulling a long, thick saber from under his desk.

"Excellent," said Harry rubbing his hand together eagerly. "So, I was wondering if you were in business to get your bank properly warded?"

Ragnok jumped on top of the desk and brought the sword down on top Harry's head in one fluid notion. There was a glow and the sword cracked from the impact with Harry's head. "Not at this time," Ragnok snarled as he looked at his broken sword.

Harry waved his hand and the sword was repaired as if there was never any damage. "I figured in the spirit of camaraderie I should fix the Blade of First Ungarian, named after goblin King Ungarian Osla the Warrior from the thirteen hundreds. However, seeing as you started this, I will point out that most goblins refer to your priceless artifact as the Blade of F.U."

Ragnok secured his sword back under his desk, and then waved his hand, triggering several dozen spear traps. All of the spears aimed at Harry's chair bounced off of him. "Damn," he snarled, "That's generally my last resort."

"So if I can come in and potentially assassinate the King of the Goblin Nation, is it possible your wards might need upgrading?" Harry asked smoothly.

"And you think you can do better?" Ragnok snarled in return.

"Well considering thirty armed goblin warriors are being kept out of the room by my wards: Yes," Harry answered dryly.

Ragnok was silent for a moment. "How much do you want?"

"I could say half, but you haven't seen that movie yet," Harry replied. He ignored the goblin's look of confusion as he began to think about what he actually wanted. In truth, he hadn't thought getting this far would be this easy. "All right, first I want a high security vault, and I do mean high. Not one measly blind dragon, three Hungarian Horntails and lethal protections. Second, I want ten million galleons. Third, I want to raid the LeStrange vault."

He saw Ragnok's incredulous look. With a sigh, he summoned Fawkes. The goblin was completely startled by a phoenix bonding with the maniac in front of him. "You have a phoenix?" he muttered in awe.

"Yes, I do, and it makes bypassing wards a cakewalk. So I could down into the vault and grab what I want, as long as I constantly kept a flame-freezing charm up." He saw another incredulous look from the goblin king. "Yes, I know what defenses you have to protect that vault, which is why I'm telling you to disable them. What I want from that vault, I don't want to destroy, at least, not yet. Anyway back to my demands. Fourth, I want protection under goblin law. Finally, I want an oath not to try and have me assassinated." Harry stopped talking to see what the goblin had to say.

"We reject all of your terms without hesitation," Ragnok snarled.

Harry waved his wand and the Sword of F.U. came unfastened to remove Ragnok's head from his body. "I can only hope your successor is more reasonable," he commented lightly to the corpse.

Harry got up, and after brushing himself off, flung Ragnok's corpse and head out of the chair and in front of the door. A few charms, and all of Ragnok's blood was removed. Harry sat in the former King's chair and put his feet up on Ragnok's ornate desk before waving his wand to open the door. "It's open!" he shouted.

Ten goblin warriors armed to the teeth charged into the room, before Harry waved his hand and it was closed again.

"Well gentlemen- actually it would be gentlegoblins, wouldn't it? Anyway, genetlegoblin warriors, I am Harry Potter. Unfortunately, negotiations with former King Ragnok broke down because of his untimely and perfectly natural death," Harry told the assembled goblin warriors.

"Perfectly natural? His head is-"

Harry interrupted the goblin warrior by waving his hand and sending the sword at the defiant warrior's neck. Another goblin was separated from its head as the sword began acting like a boomerang and returned to Harry.

"He died a perfectly natural death too," Harry declared. He saw the goblins were about to object with sharpened steel. "Consider this: your King and a warrior both lie dead due to a sword colliding with their necks. Do you want to join them?" Harry said as he waved his hand again and the spears from Ragnok's second assassination attempt animated and hovered right in front of the remaining goblin's throats.

The goblins looked at each other and then turned back. Each reluctantly nodded "No!"

"Good. Now then, as I said, they both died perfectly natural deaths. A sword is made from natural resources is it not? So if a sword chooses to remove their heads, I blame nature. Now then, in English, who is next in line for the throne?" Harry asked.

"Well, Prince Kolchik is-"

"Damn Kolckick, Prince Rodak-"

"Rodak! That fool is nothing to General Zolgark-"

"Zolgark is a tyrannical bastard! Kolchik is-"

"-An surface dweller!" Harry's eyes rose at the ultimate goblin insult, and he waved his hand to silence all of them. They turned to stare at Harry.

"Let's try this again. Who is next in line for the throne? Debate amongst yourselves, I'll give you twenty minutes, and then tell me," Harry commanded.

As the goblins returned to political discussion, Harry conjured some Cognac to tide him over. "Miserable bastards are making me do all the hard work," he muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

Twenty minutes later, the goblins present reluctantly stopped bickering and turned back to Harry. "Mr. Potter. We can only conclude that there are no less than twenty-six people in line for the throne," the bravest among them declared.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Which one would be the easiest to negotiate with? Oh," Harry waved his hand, "Lie, and you die."

"Zolgark is obviously-" The goblin as cut off as his skin burst into flames and he was burned alive. His burnt body collapsed to the floor as the other goblins watched in interest.

"Does lie and you die mean nothing to you fools?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Next!"

"Prince Kemsphat!" the next goblin warrior declared without hesitation. He did not burst into flames.

"We have a winner, boys!" Harry declared jovially. "Now then, I will open the door, and you will all go and summon the Prince. Ask him how he'd feel about assuming the throne. Return with the Prince, please," Harry commanded, as the door opened, and the goblins trying to charge in ricocheted backwards. The eight goblin warriors scurried out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, Prince Kemshpat was forced into the room as the door slammed behind him. Harry stood and walked over to him. The Prince's dagger broke just like te blade of F.U. had.

"You really must not have liked that dagger," Harry commented. "Now then, greetings Prince Kemphat, or should I say, King Kemsphat? You are now the King of the goblin nation by divine mandate."

"I see no divinity offering me the crown," Kemsphat commented dryly.

"I have been known to play a pretty mean vengeful god," Harry replied as he was surrounded by silver light and a crack of thunder sounded from outside the bank. "You King Kemsphat could go down in goblin history. You could be remembered as an exceptional King, with his ally Harry Potter at his side, or the shortest reigning goblin King in history. Today, you get to decide," Harry declared enthusiastically.

Kempshat was silent for a second. He walked over and took the bloody crown from Ragnok's head, and then a seat behind his new desk. "What can the Goblin nation do for you?" he asked kindly, with a grimace across his face as if the words had caused him unspeakable agony.

"Well, King Kemsphat, I will tell you what I told your predecessor. I want a high security vault with three Hungarian Horntails, not blind, and top of the line defenses. I want ten million galleons. I want to pillage the LeStrange vault. I want diplomatic immunity via goblin law. I want there to be no fees on any business I conduct at Gringotts, and the ability to nullify anyone else's fees at will. Finally, I want an oath declaring there shall be no reprisals or assassination attempts because of actions some might deem mine," Harry finished.

"Might deem yours? Didn't you kill-"

"Nope, nature did it," Harry replied. "In exchange for those six minor concessions," the King rolled his eyes at "minor", which Harry ignored. "I will properly ward Gringotts against any attempts to break in, and I will assume the position of goblin ambassador to the Ministry of Magic."

Kemsphat's eyes lit up on hearing Harry's second concession. "Are you as… predisposed to the Ministry as you are to goblins?" Harry nodded with a grin. Kemsphat held out his hand. "I believe we can come to an agreement. The vault is no problem. Neither are protections. Nor the money. I don't like the LeStranges anyway; pillage away. Diplomatic immunity; consider it done. The fee thing is easy to do as well. The only hurdle is the oaths. It is no trouble for me to give oaths but there are factions amongst my people…"

"I will take your oath and your assurance to warn your people about what happens to those who oppose me as satisfactory effort to fulfill that condition," Harry replied.

The goblin shook Harry's hand again. "Then I will go fulfill our agreement while you properly ward our bank."

Harry took a meal in the Hog's Head, as he had done for the seven years he was Headmaster of Hogwarts. At the beginning of his time as Headmaster, Neville had retired as professor of Herbology and Deputy Headmaster, and he and Susan had purchased the Hog's Head. Harry had always eaten there to steer business towards the Longbottom family, and because he was a good friend of Neville's son Marvin, who they had installed as proprietor. Marvin ran the business well, and the Hog's Head had increased in stature at the same time that the Three Broomsticks had declined. Madam Rosmerta had died from an outbreak of Dragon Pox's, and the new owners managed the bar as well as Aberforth Dumbledore had managed the Hog's Head in his time.

He had just finished his meal of roast beef with a side of mash potatoes to see Albus Dumbledore enter the bar. Dumbledore looked around wildly before locking eyes with him and strolling towards him."Mr. Potter, it is a pleasure to see you again. May I join you?"

Harry gestured to the unoccupied seat across from him. Dumbledore went to sit down, only for Harry to wave his hand and move the chair backwards, causing Dumbledore to fall on his ass. "If you were wondering, that's for associating with Gellert Grindlewald," Harry commented as he took a swig of firewhiskey. Dumbledore got up, and attempted to sit down again, while Harry waved his hand again and dropped the old man to the floor again. "That's for being a manipulative asrehole."

Dumbledore got up, and using his wand to make sure the chair didn't move, finally sat down. "I understand you had problems with my counterpart."

"No, not really," Harry shrugged. "All he did was place me with my abusive relatives, manipulate me while I was in school, position me against Voldemort, and let the Wizarding World burn for me to fix. I have no issue with Albus Dumbledore; you or your counterpart."

"Yes," Dumbledore said uncertainly. "About Tom-"

"Ah, yes, good old Thomas Riddle. What about him?" Harry asked idly, as he signaled for a refill.

"Have you perhaps reconsidered your stance?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"On what? Wanting to get paid? If you're good at something never do it for free. Oh, and I advise that you see that movie when it comes out," Harry suggested as he took another sip of his firewhiskey.

"Harry, for such a service to the Wizarding World, you can't possibly-"

"Oh course I can. If I couldn't charge for putting my life on the line to fix your mistakes, then why bother. This is 90's the age of Capitalism, when greed is good. Next decade is going to suck, but still, I intend to make out like a bandit, just like any other CEO," Harry replied.

"I see there's no convincing you to be reasonable," Dumbledore scowled.

"What's reasonable about offing Dark Lord's for free?" Harry countered.

Dumbledore sighed. "Will you at least consider coming back to the castle to meet with your family? They are very worried about you."

It was Harry's turn to sigh. "You don't get it, do you? I never knew my family because my parents sacrificed themselves to save me. The Potter's I met early are not my family. Even if it was something as simple as they had to leave to meet with you while Voldemort killed this world's Harry Potter, they still lived fourteen years while having several other children. They are not my parents. The Sirius Black of this world did not have the same experiences as my world's Sirius Black. Neither did this Remus Lupin. Hell, my Lupin, and I realize I just treated him as a possession, wasn't married until I was near seventeen. The only person who hasn't changed is Snivellus, who is an asrehole in every dimension."

"I have no idea where this mistrust of Severus Snape comes from. True, he isn't the most likeable fellow, but still-"

"Isn't he a Death Eater?" Harry point out snidely.

"No, of course not. He did once attempt to join as a young and foolish teenager straight of Hogwarts but-"

Harry burst out laughing, which caused the other two people in the bar, Aberforth Dumbledore and another man drinking at the bar, to stare at him while the bar rat subtly moved away from him. "He got rejected, didn't he?" Harry choked out. One look at Dumbledore's face told him all he needed to know, and Harry resumed laughing like a maniac.

"I fail to see the humor-"

"You don't see what's funny about Severus Snape being too much of an asshole for even the Death Eaters, an organization that takes assholes like him and turns them into killers for pureblood supremacy?" Harry asked rhetorically, while still chuckling.

"Nevertheless, your family has had many dreams and hopes for Harry Potter, and I believe meeting with them would-"

"No," Harry said firmly. "It's not happening. This is not my family. I wouldn't go over to the girl I married and expect her to be exactly the same in this dimension, so why do you expect a man who survived one hundred and seventy seven years without his parents or siblings to suddenly break down and need poor copies. You've already revealed differences between this dimension and the original one, such as Snape never actually becoming a Death Eater. Would it be reasonable for me to assume that these people are exactly the same as the people who had different lives in my old dimension?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "So what exactly are you trying to do, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I consider this dimension a poor copy of my own. Hence, I think I'll screw with it however I choose. If you get tomorrow's Daily Prophet, you will see that there has been a change in leadership in the Goblin nation. I already contracted to do some work for them, so I'll be set for a while. I'm also a teenager again, for some weird reason. So I'm going to have to do something about my hormones. As for Voldemort, well, maybe when someone matches my price, this world with find itself Dark Lordless. Seeing as the Ministry refuses to even believe that Voldemort is back, and that Neville's death was a "tragic accident" it will probably be a while before I'm off the market. Plenty of time to get some money together and make an offer," Harry observed.

Dumbledore hesitated. "Perhaps you would be interested in returning to Hogwarts, either as a student or the Defense Professor?" he asked gently.

"Don't you pay your teachers shit?" Harry asked incredulously. "And as for becoming a student: I was Headmaster of Hogwarts. Schools out, old man. I'm headed over to the Ministry tomorrow to complete my OWL's and NEWT's, so I'll be fit for employment. Sorry, but no and no to your proposals."

"Harry, I do wish you'd be reasonable," Dumbledore chastised him.

"Albus, I do wish you hadn't associated with Gellert Grindlewald. Whoa, look at that: my wish didn't alter reality. Why should yours?" Harry asked dryly.

Dumbledore sighed and stood up. "This is not over, Mr. Potter. I can't trust that you'll act like a responsible adult when left to your own devices. For the-"

"Greater Good? That isn't a good way to convince me you've reformed," Harry pointed out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out money to pay Aberforth for his meal.

"I'm sorry, Harold," said Dumbledore as he brought up his wand and a red beam of light erupted from the tip. Harry disappeared right before the stunning spell hit him; leaving only the money he owed Aberforth.

AN II: This is a tide over chapter while I focus on Harry Potter: An Education. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I don't own Harry Potter. This is the last chapter of this story until after the New Year. I start a new job on Tuesday, and so I have to cut back. HPAE will probably be the only fanfic updated between now and then. Thank you for all the reviews, and have a Merry Christmas.

Chapter Two: Guess Who's Crashing The Party

Harry rematerialized on a grassy knoll where he and his wife had built their home in another lifetime. He starred wistfully at the barren grassland. It was painful to know that at one time in another life, his fondest memories belonged to this very place. He sighed, and turned sharply as his phoenix friend arrived in a pillar of fire.

"What kept 'ya Fawksie," Harry asked curiously. The phoenix trilled back, apparently annoyed. "So the ring, the cup, and the locket are in my vault? And Voldemort doesn't know?" The phoenix trilled back an answer. "Okay, we'll destroy them soon enough. However, as I remember from my old world, it has to be done right. Last time, when Dumbledore kicked it, and a seventeen year old was left the mantle of Leader of The Light, instability was rampant for the next fifty years. While destroying his horcruxes now would be satisfying, I need to go grab the diadem, and the off Nagini in a way that won't make Voldemort suspect why she was targeted."

Harry turned back to the acre of land on which his hopes and dreams had rested for more than a century. Fawkes landed on his shoulder, and positioned himself comfortably.

"If you look off in the distance, you can see the lake. My family affectionately termed it Lake Potter, after joke my wife once made. Did you ever imagine you would see it like this? No Mr. and Mrs. Potter, children, no grandchildren, no friends and hangers-on, just… empty?" Harry asked his companion mournfully.

The phoenix's trill made Harry turn away. "Fawkes, as you so cheerfully informed me, this is a different dimension. Do you imagine that she… she'd be the same?" he asked desperately in a whisper. Fawkes trilled negatively. "Exactly, my whole world has collapsed. It can never properly be rebuilt. This nonsense with the goblins, the ministry, the Order… it's to tide me over until I find a way to go home."

The two stood in silence, the only sound being the summer winds blowing merrily around them. "There has to be a way home Fawkes. Doesn't there?" Harry asked desperetly after several moments of silence.

Fawkes trilled mournfully. Harry stared resolutely at his own personal field of dreams. "I am going to find a way Fawkes," he declared in a low voice. "I'm going to get both of us back home. There is going to come a time when I arrive back at this same grassy plain, only to find the comfort and solace of home. That I promise you."

* * *

"I bring this meeting of the Order the Phoenix to a close," Dumbledore declared after the members had finished hearing reports on the latest comings and goings of the Ministry and the known Death Eaters. "If the Potters, the Lupins, and Mr. Black could please remind behind, I would very much appreciate it," Dumbledore declared as members began exiting the room to leave the dank confines of Grimmald Place. It was apparent after a few moments in the house that its owner had forgotten its existence, either by accident or deliberate action, and the house had fallen into chronic disrepair with only one insane house-elf acting as caretaker.

Dumbledore waited until only those invited remained before slamming the door and sealing it with locking charms. He turned to the elder Potters, Lupins, and Sirius. "I had dinner with Harold last evening."

Those simple words had the astonishing effect of focusing everyone else's attention on Dumbledore. "How was he?" Lily asked desperately with a hint of longing in her tone.

Dumbledore sighed. "I will make no secret of the fact that I handled the conversation extremely poorly. However, from what I have discerned, Harold is rather… insane. Since arriving in this dimension, he has overthrown King Ragnok of the goblin nation while receiving a cushy appointment as goblin ambassador to the ministry."

"Still insisted on payment?" Remus asked disgustedly.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied simply.

"Albus, who else can possibly defeat Voldemort? Why else would he desire payment if not for security's sake," Lily argued.

Sirius cleared his throat. "I agree with Lily. I understand Remus's distaste with paying for support, as if we are no better than hiring mercenaries, but really… we weren't even willing to discuss price. He's here, in a strange dimension, with only your phoenix for support. If he's changing leadership in Gringotts, it's because he knows things former King Ragnok did from the other dimensions. I'm not saying "other" Harry isn't capable of acting irresponsibly or rashly like Prongs or I might, but… well, we don't know why he is taking the path he is," Sirius finished uncertainly.

"I think you're both right," Sarah Lupin inserted diplomatically. "I think the Headmaster is right that Harry is capable of rash or reckless actions, such as the Gringotts debacle. I also think Remy's right that he's displayed some rather mercenary tendencies since arriving in this dimension. However, I think Sirius and Lily make a good point that he basically has nothing to his name except his wand, undershirt, and boxers, so it is reasonable that he'd want compensation for offing a Dark Lord, and perhaps he knows the other dimension versions of Ragnok and Voldemort well enough that he's derailing Voldemort's plans by effecting a leadership change in Gringotts. So where does that leave us?"

"We have an incredibly powerful Harry Potter with no inhibitions and a moral compass none among us can track, whose taking actions that both worry, disgust, and confuse us all," James replied as a summary.

"Harold did mention he was headed to the ministry to take his OWL's and NEWT's tomorrow," Dumbledore inserted. Everyone turned to him. "I was thinking of asking Alastor to subdue him and bring him here," he continued.

"Albus that is possibly the worst thing you could do!" Remus cried. "He already sees you as being no different from the other world version of Albus Dumbledore. Subduing him and imprisoning him is not likely to alter his opinion."

Dumbledore stared at Remus. His head turned sharply as Lily began to speak. "Maybe one of us," she gestured at herself, James, and the other two Marauders, "Can go and talk with him. But I definitely don't think you're the right man to approach Harry. He apparently has many, many axes to grind with some form of Albus Dumbledore. Sending Moody, a man well known to be a close personal friend of yours, will just piss him off, and Moody probably won't be able to subdue him if he was as close a friend as your counterpart. He'll probably be too familiar to "other" Harry."

Dumbledore sat lost in thought for a moment. "That could work. While James has the most dueling experience of you four, in case circumstances arise that those skills are needed, I think Sirius should be the one sent, because he seems to be someone who Harry was familiar with in his dimension. He is also the most proficient duelist and the most sympathetic to Harry, next to Lily and James. Sirius, is tomorrow at two thirty free for you?"

"Certainly," he replied. "I think I can handle Harry."

* * *

"Hello Fred and George," Harry called as he walked into their room in Grimmald place.

Both twins stopped what they were doing; inventing pranking items, and stared at Harry. "Who the bloody hell are you!" cried one of the twins.

"I'm Harold James Potter," Harry said pompously. The twin's mouths fell open. "Yes, yes, I know my counterpart perished at the age of one in this dimension. Well I am Harry Potter, just not from around here. Circumstances beyond my control and understanding have forced me into this dimension."

The twins continued to stare. "You're from another dimension?" one of the twins asked breathlessly.

"Indeed. In my original dimension, Fred and George Weasley were perhaps the most brilliant and creative people I ever knew. That is why I am here. May I take a seat?" The twins nodded. Harry sat down in a comfy chair that materialized with a wave of his hand.

"Well, gentlemen, and I do use that term as loosely as I can," both twins smiled absently, "I need your help. Before any more, I would like a magical oath that what I say doesn't leave this room."

Both twins grabbed their wands and gave an oath to take Harry's secrets to the grave.

"Thank you, gentlemen, or perhaps I should say, gentle-rogues. I knew my trust in you would not be misplaced. Now then, as I said, Fred and George Weasley were two of the most brilliant inventors that I ever knew. As a show of good faith, here is a bank draft for ten thousand galleons." He pulled out the Gringotts draft and handed it over. The twins stared at it in shock. "Now then, and this is the difficult part, I need a way back home. I am prepared to pay every galleon in this dimensions Gringotts account for you two to invent a way for me to return to my original universe. I will put that in writing if the need arises. So I am offering close to ten million galleons, at this moment, for you two to open a gateway back home." The twin's mouths fell open again. Harry began chuckling. "Yes, I know the difficulty of such a task. Hence the money offered. However, the longer I have to stay in this dimension, the more money I will be forced to spend. Conversely, there is a chance that the amount of gold actually increases as I stay. However, at a minimum, I will guarantee five million galleons. So my good twins, what happens now is entirely up to you. I know the initial funds will go towards your joke shop," he saw the shock returning to the twins faces, "-It was a smashing success, by the way. Anyway, after that, I hope you two can get started on finding me a way home."

Harry stood up. "Thank you for your time. Oh, and if you need to contact me," a card appeared in a flash of light, "Here's my card." The twins looked at a phoenix playing card from an exploding snap deck; under the creature of fire, a caption read, "Have phoenix, will travel." Harry winked. "I'll be in touch." And he was gone.

* * *

Harry was just finishing up his Arithmancy NEWT, the last test of the day. He found the various mathematical questions and algorithms to be extremely easy. Of course, he had so far ventured beyond these simple equations over the course of his life. He mentally thanked his wife for showing him the usefulness of this branch of magic. He had been such an ignorant little shite while at Hogwarts. When he finally finished school, he had no clue what runes or Arithmancy were even used for. He sighed, thinking back to those happy deaths when his future wife had found many entertaining ways to show her exasperation with how little Harry knew. His favorite was when she continually banged her head against the wall, and asked if he actually attended any Hogwarts classes, or was just there for the food.

With an hour to go, Harry answered the last question with a flourish, and raised his hand, signaling he had finished. The proctor came over, and took the exam, and Harry left the room. He had barely walked five steps when he heard someone calling his name. He turned to see a face belonging to a man absent from his life for over a century. "Hello, Sirius," Harry greeted neutrally.

"Hello, Harry I-"

"Let me guess," Harry interrupted. "You're here on behalf of the old man, trying to either talk me down or subdue me?" he asked dryly.

Sirius shook his head. "You got it all wrong, Harry. I just want to talk with you," he said with a hint of desperation.

Harry sighed while mentally weighing his options. Finally he looked Sirius in the eye. "Fine, we'll talk, but I pick the place, and you're paying." He was about to walk off when he thought better of it. "Oh, and if Alastor Moody follows, I will get violent," Harry said gesturing over his shoulder to where Moody pulled off the invisibility cloak he had been under with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry Black, Albus's orders," he declared gruffly by way of an apology.

Sirius stared at him with a rather betrayed look on his face."Go home, Alastor," he said blandly. Moody shrugged and walked off.

"I had no-"

"I know, Sirius, or I would have just stunned you both and left you here with clown faces," Harry cut him off. "Shall we?"

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Sirius were seated opposite each other in a muggle dinner not far from the Ministry building.

After order, and making idle chitchat, Sirius decided to cut to the heart of the matter.

He took a breath. "Let me say my piece, Harry, and then you can respond with either laughter or derision. I am Sirius Black, the man who was godfather to baby Harry Potter. Those days after he was murdered… it wasn't easy. I remember the Ministry holding me for sixty something hours before Lily and James finally convinced them I wasn't the secret keeper. I remember young Harry's funeral. I remember everyone else moving on. After a few months of mourning, I too, went on with my life. The last few years haven't been easy. Neville Longbottom… I don't want to say anything bad about the dead, but he wasn't a pleasant person. He couldn't handle the stress of constantly opposing Voldemort. It eventually killed him; that and Voldemort. Now that you're back…" Sirius stared off into space for a few moments, while the waiter brought them their appetizers.

When they had both polished their starters off, he began speaking again. "Now that you're back, Lily, James, and I want our chance to get to know the son and godson we only ever dreamed of. Is that really so unreasonable?" he whispered.

Harry sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not that you're being unreasonable, it's that you don't understand." He pulled his hand away from his head and stared at Sirius. "I have a family back home." There was shock at Harry's simple declaration. He was incredibly thankful he put up wards preventing other people from listening in on their conversation. "I have a wife, children, grandchildren, and in a few months, great-grandchildren back home. You're not…" he struggled for the right words. "You're not the same Sirius Black I remember, for better or worse. I say better because my dimension's Sirius Black had no Lily and James to straighten out the secret keeper mix-up, and spent thirteen years in Azkaban for it. We also spent very little time together before he died at the end of my fifth year. While it's great that you didn't have to suffer like that Sirius did… his suffering made him the man I knew and cherished. To even try and replace you, someone almost completely different, with the man I remember a century ago… I don't think I can do it. That's the same problem I have when I see Lily and James Potter. My parents died for me. To see a couple who was forced to bury their dead son, and then move on to have five more children, and try and reconcile them with my own parents… it's also something I don't think I could ever do," Harry finished.

Sirius stared at Harry in part surprise, and part combined sorrow and pity. "Not having Lily and James makes you a completely different person?" he asked sadly. Harry nodded. Sirius was silent for a few moments. "Personally, I still want to get to know you, maybe not as a godson, but as a good friend, a person who you know and can rely on. Do you have a problem with that?"

Harry sighed. "I might have several," he muttered. He looked Sirius right in the eye. "Sirius, I am trying to find a way back to my old dimension," he whispered.

Sirius was silent as the waiter brought their meal, and they wolfed it down. Finally, once they finished, Sirius regained his voice. "I suppose I should have seen that coming, what with the fondness in your voice as you talked about your family. Still, I imagine dimensional traveling isn't something that can happen overnight. If you're willing, we'd still like to get to know you while you're in this dimension."

Harry stared at him. "Sirius, what if I someday needed your help to leave. Could I reasonably expect you all to be willing to help the son, godson, friend you've all never had return home?"

Sirius's mouth closed with an audible click. The only sounds for the next fifteen minutes were their ordering desserts.

"Yes," he ground out, though it was almost as if the words caused him actual physical pain. "I would give an oath to that effect, if need be," he continued reluctantly.

Harry smiled sadly. "Do you really think I could do that to any version of Sirius Black? I could never hurt you like that, and for that reason, I will do everything I can to not know you. I am certain it will make departing from this world that much easier."

Sirius was thoughtful for a second. "There's no changing your mind, is there?" he asked dully.

Harry shook his head. "I stand firm and resolved. I will not be tempted, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "Can you at least tell me what the deal with Gringotts was?" he asked tiredly. "Just so I have something to bring back to the Order-" He clamped his mouth shut, horrified at what he'd let slip.

"It's all right, Sirius, I know all about the Order of the Pheonix. I was in your headquarters last night, just to make sure they were still your headquarters. In answer to your question: you do not know Ragnok as I did. He was a vicious bastard, a goblin's goblin. He was also a Voldemort collaborator when the going got tough. I was prepared to let him live, as long as he abided by the terms of our agreement, but he proved to be as much of arsehole here as he was back home. Kemsphat is not that great a goblin King from what I've seen thus far, though you could reasonably say it's been two days, but he is reliable, if nothing else. I'm hoping he keeps hold of the throne long enough for me to safely depart this dimension," Harry finished explaining.

Sirius polished off his water before he stood up. He held out a hand, "Harry I hope you someday change your mind, but until then, I wish you the best." Harry shook it.

* * *

"O, O… O, O, E. Twelve OWL's, twelve NEWT's", Harry commented to Fawkes over breakfast at the hotel they were staying in. He leaned back. "How the bloody hell did I pass Divination?" Fawkes chirped enthusiastically. "Fawkes, you're my best friend and I love you, but don't ever say anything about me being a seer ever again," Harry growled in a low voice.

There was a knock at the door, which forced Harry to wave his wand and turn his bathrobe into an Italian suit. He stood up and walked over to open the door. The waiter who brought his breakfast came in and took it away. "You have a letter at the front desk, sir," the waiter informed him as he left.

Harry sighed and stood up. "What are the chances that it's Fred and George and they've found a way home?" he asked the phoenix. Fawkes's trill crushed his hopes. "I thought so," Harry murmured dejectedly. He sighed again. "I better go see what this is about," he said stiffly walking towards the door.

Five minutes later, he was in lobby opening a bland letter with no apparent indication of who had sent it, after properly signing for it. He pried it open and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Harold,_

_I am writing this letter to apologize for my actions when we last met. It was wrong of me to attempt to place the weight of the world squarely on your shoulders. Our relationship is so tattered and frayed that I almost have no clue where to begin trying to mend it. In this case, I will simply say sorry. I am sorry for attempting to force you into a confrontation with Lord Voldemort. I am sorry for doing the above while offering nothing in return for what is clearly a task that requires sacrifice. I am sorry for attempting to stun you in the Hog's Head when I believed you were a possible danger to the world. I am sorry for sending Alastor Moody along to your meeting with Sirius. And above all, I am sorry for the low regards with which you held for my other world counterpart._

_I am hopeful we can possibly meet to work out our differences, maybe at the Hog's Head next Tues-_

Harry ripped the letter in two, then four, and the eight, before dumping it in the wastebasket. After everything both Dumbledore's hadput him through, they had a hell of a lot of nerve to ask for reconciliation now. He waved his hand and placed a notice-me-not charm on the wastebasket before setting its contents on fire. Once he was certain the letter had roasted, he extinguished the flame and dropped the charm.

* * *

"-Afterwards, I shook his hand and we went our separate ways," Sirius said, finishing his recollections of his lunch with Harry.

There was a thoughtful silence around the room. "So why does he want compensation if he just wants to return home?" queried Remus.

"Well, Remy," Sirius snickered and Remus blushed; he hated it when people made fun of his wife's pet name for him. "The compensation he would have demanded would have probably been help returning home. We of course closed negotiations before he could state his demands," Sirius pointed out.

"I sent a letter to him this very day, in the hopes that we could possibly meet again, and come to an accord," Dumbledore declared.

Sirius sighed. "He hates you, and I mean really hates you. He mildly dislikes Snivellus compared to you. I truly doubt he's A. going to meet with you, or B. ever comes to an accord with you."

"Sirius, still I must hold out hope that something can be done," Dumbledore replied.

"So what are we going to do now?" asked Remus.

"Leave Harry be," Sirius suggested. "I mean really, all he's looking for is a way home. He has a loving family he's probably missing dearly. Maybe, if we're lucky, getting home will require putting Voldemort down. Nonetheless, trust me; you want to stay out of Harry's way. Just don't bother him. Especially you, Headmaster; there is nothing you can do, and I mean nothing, that would positively affect your relationship. Let's just sit back and watch as the Ministry tries to deal with Harry. My advice: make popcorn."

* * *

"Gladys, who the bloody hell is this ponce and why is he sitting in my chair!" shouted irate Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.

"This ponce', Minister, is Harry Potter, the new goblin ambassador to the Ministry, and he is your ten thirty," Gladys replied smoothly.

Harry got to his feet and walked over to the Ministry, apparently oblivious to the man's slights on his person. Fudge cautiously held out his hand, and Harry kneed the man in the balls.

"As goblin emissary, I must refresh you on customary goblin greetings," Harry informed the Minister who was pathetically moaning, with tears sprouting from his eyes. Harry pulled the Minister to his feet, and held out his hand again. Fudge used one hand to cover his crotch, and held out his other hand. Harry slapped him across the face. "I also must make it clear that the goblin nation will not stand for such a lack of respect."

"What's stopping me from calling the guards and having you arrested, you traitor," snarled Fudge.

Harry kneed him in the balls again. "I have immunity under goblin law. Besides, are you really going to chance another goblin rebellion, especially when their people have complete control over the Ministry's wealth?"

Fudge managed to whimper "no" as he clutched his balls.

"Good, so I thought I'd update you on goblin affairs the Ministry might care about," Fudge gingerly got to his feet. "King Kemsphat has recently been crowned King of the goblin nation. All business dealing between King Ragnok and the Ministry are to be redacted and renegotiated. You have thirty days to pay overdue fees the Ministry owes Gringotts, and to pay licensing fees to enter into renegotiations on any expiring treaties." Harry thought for a second. "I think that's it… for now," he said idly as he used Fudge as a rug to walk out of the Minister's office. "I'll be in touch." Fudge's whimper was his only reply.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thank you to all who reviewed. I do not own Harry Potter. Expect another chapter the same time next week. Happy New Year!

Chapter Three: The Meaning Of The "Greater Good"

"So, have you two made any progress?" Harry asked as he barged in through the feebly looked and poorly warded door the twins had used to try and hide their plans from Molly Weasley.

Fred and George looked at him sharply. "How in the ruddy hell do you keep doing that?" they asked in unison.

"What?" Harry asked innocently.

"Right, like you have no idea what we're talking about!" Fred glowered.

"Yeah, we're just shouting our little, insane, heads off, here!" George spat.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked honestly curious.

"You mean with entering our room-"

"Our locked and warded room-"

"Continually surprising us-"

"Perhaps even stalking us-"

"In a house under the Fidelius Charm!" They shouted together to finish their brainwave.

"Magic?" Harry offered meekly.

"Could you be more general?" Fred glared at him.

"Every time you come in here, I almost have panic attacks thinking about what would happen if our mother listened at the door-"

"Or Merlin forbid, opened it," Fred said, completing George's thought.

"I always apply a combination confounding/silencing ward on your door, to keep the overbearing mother away," Harry replied.

"WHY DIDN"T YOU TELL US THAT?" Fred and George shouted indignity.

"Because the aura of danger made our partnership so much more grandiose," Harry offered weakly.

Fred and George continued to glare at him. "Any progress?" Harry finally asked after a moment of silence.

George sighed. "Nothing."

"Nunca."

"Zilch."

"Zip."  
"Nada."

"Nyet."

"Nein."

"All right, I get it," Harry interrupted before they could go any further. "Let's be fair, it's been two weeks. I know you two are miracle workers, but I wasn't expecting my desired miracle overnight."

"Harry, the Fred and George of your old dimension might be your go-to guys, but-"

"This kind of thing really is out of our league. We can make skiving snackboxes-"

"Extendable ears, decoy detonators, and so on-"

"But dimension travel is way out of our league," They chorused sadly.

Harry stared at them in shock. 'You two are the glorious Weasley twins," he muttered. "Prank-masters of Hogwarts… two of my oldest and best friends." The twins flinched with every word Harry quietly uttered. "Why are you giving up so early?"

"Harry, it's not that we want to, but-"

"We have no idea where to even begin," the other twin finished.

"How about the veil," Harry replied acidly. "You know the one in the Department of Mysteries."

"Um, Harry-"

"What veil?"

Harry stared. "Oh right, the Department of Mysteries is kinda… a mystery to ordinary wizards and witches. Well suffice it to say, there is a veil in the Department that used to be used to effect executions of criminals and political opponents. I did some research on it thirty years back, or so, and it seems like it is a gateway… just a gateway leading somewhere like "instant death."

The twins stared at him in exasperation. "Harry, we keep telling you, the Fred and George you knew are completely different people from us!" they screamed.

Harry sighed. "No, they're not. Not really. You two are brilliant inventors. Many of the same ideas your having now you had back home. I know my expectations are warped, but still, the Fred and George I knew weren't quitters. That is a constant no matter the dimension. You two are brilliant. Geniuses. And more importantly, my only hope. Do you think I ever asked your dimensional counterparts for travel aid? Yet I'm confident they could eventually do it. I believe in you two."

Fred and George stared at each other. A moment. Five minutes. Ten minutes. They turned back to Harry. "You're right, we're packing it in too early," Fred stated morosely.

"But this project is cooked unless we get a look at that veil in the Department of Mysteries," George finished.

A wide smile, slightly horrifying in nature, fixed itself upon Harry's face. "Gentlemen, I think that won't be a problem any longer."

* * *

"Good evening, Ms. Tonks," Harry said jovially as he sat in one of the armchairs in her apartment.

Tonks dropped the bag she had slung over her shoulder. "Who the fuck are you?" She screamed, brandishing her wand at Harry. "ANSWER ME!" she bellowed in response to his continued silence.

"I have a proposition for you madam, and I did not want to document it in public," Harry explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Speak then!" she snarled.

"First, I must ask if at the Order meetings-"

"How do you know about the meetings?" Tonks breathed with a dangerous edge to her voice.

"It will be made clear. Anyway, has there been any mention of a Harry Potter?' he asked quietly.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull but-"

With a wave of his hand, Tonks's wand flew towards Harry as Tonks was banished into a newly conjured chair. "Yes? Or No?" Harry breathed.

"No!" Tonks shrieked, clearly afraid. Harry levitated her wand back over to her, and Tonks caught it in her outstretched hand with a look of confusion etched on her face.

"You see, I know what happened to the Harry Potter you're thinking of, but you have no idea about the Harry Potter I'm thinking of," Harry replied.

"There's another Harry Potter?" Tonks asked blankly.

"Yes. Me," declared Harry quietly, gesturing to himself.

Tonks stared at him as if he were something filthy, like a piece of liter. "You're nuts!"

"I assure you, I am Harry Potter! I swear on my life and magic I am Harry Potter. So mote it be," Harry explained in a rush. He raised his wand, and the familiar glow of the lightning spell confirmed what he'd said.

Tonks stared at him in amazement. "You are- How?" she spluttered.

"I'm not quite sure myself. One moment, I was reading out on my terrace, and the next, I woke up in what my phoenix called "another dimension." Now there are many, many question marks on how I got here like, "How did my phoenix come with me?" As an example of one of those questions. However, I have decided that I'd rather return home than find answers. However, while I am trying to find a way home, I also wish to perform a few public services for this dimension. And that is where you come in. I know of your talents as a metamorphmagus. You see, I have entrusted the Weasley twins with helping me return home." He watched Tonks eyebrows raise. "However, without getting a better look at an artifact in the Department of Mysteries, this project will bear no fruit. To get into the Department, I'd have to break in." He saw Tonks's curiosity give way to her temporarily misplaced hostility. "I know, I know, bad idea. Unless… I wasn't the one breaking in."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow you," Tonks admitted.

"Well, we both know that Voldemort is on the loose. We also know we need to find a way to force his hand. You are a metamorphmagus. I know how Voldemort operated from the old dimension. The Weasleys need access to the Department of Mysteries… the same place Voldemort is focusing on," Harry trailed off, watching Tonks connect the dots.

"You can't be serious?" she whispered.

"Think about it. In one foul swoop, we can remove Fudge, reveal Voldemort, and I find a way home," Harry continued.

"The second they took wand signatures off of the Ministry building, they'd know it's me," Tonks countered.

"Tonks, when Voldemort first started out, why do you think the aurors didn't do the exact same thing you proposed, and get a warrant for one Tom Riddle Jr.?" Harry asked. Tonks was once again struck speechless. "He's learned to mask his signature," Harry answered. "I can mask your signature."

Tonks stared at him, again. This time, Harry was quite sure he'd permanently damaged her mind when she didn't stop staring.

"Let me see if I understand this," Tonks finally said, breaking the eerie silence. "You are proposing that I replicate Voldemort's form, you and the Weasley twins pretend to be Death Eaters, we storm the Ministry, specifically target the Department of Mysteries, you buy the Weasley twin's time to study this artifact, we duplicate Voldemort's actions from your memory to ensure no one has doubts, and then we leave the Ministry, while letting the Wizarding World believe Voldemort's returned," Tonks summarized.

Harry smiled. "Good, very good. You left two things out, though. One, to make people truly believe it's Voldemort, we are going to have to, at very least, cause significant damage to the building. And two, we are going to do this a week or so before the October Ministry election," Harry stated. "That will force Fudge from office, and in the power vacuum, one of the higher quality candidates, either Amelia Bones or Amos Diggory, will assume power, and prepare the Ministry for war."

Tonks was again silent for a very long moment. Finally she stared Harry in the eye. "Do we really have to become like the Death Eaters?" she asked desperately.

Harry sighed. "Every second Voldemort stays in the shadows is a second the odds shift ever more in his direction. As long as Fudge is minister, more people will die when the Death Eaters finally reveal themselves. So, every second we don't act, our odds, which already weren't that good, get worse, and Voldemort gains more resources, and ultimately, more power. Fudge is focused on defaming Dumbledore, believing that this "Voldemort" thing is all part of Dumbledore trying to seize power. There is no other way the Weasley twins could study this artifact. I know the implications and the lack of morality that is rather apparent, but truly, and you can decide for yourself whether you agree, this is for the Greater Good."

Tonks sat quietly, lost in her own thoughts. It was insane, what Harry, a person who she'd never met before and wasn't even certain she could trust, was proposing. Yet, if he was right… innocent people need not die. Some new blood would have a chance to fortify the Ministry for Voldemort's eventual assault. Voldemort could no longer scheme from the shadows. His plan had a very warped logic inherent in its design. And he was asking her to potentially risk everything; her job, her family, her friends, her responsibilities, and her life, on what was really a mad scheme. But it was a mad scheme that might save many, many people's lives, if it worked.

"I can't decide yet. I need more time to think," Tonks declared.

Harry sighed. "All right, I'll be in touch. We will meet again soon. However, if you ever need to contact me, well here's my card. Keep it on you, and we'll be in touch," Harry said handing her a card and strolling to the door.

"Harry, why did you hand me a Joker playing card?" Tonks called to his retreating form.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore fell into his familiar habit of pacing around his office as his mind tried to untangle to knots of what appeared to be a very long, uncertain set of thoughts regarding recent events. In the past few months, the boy he'd hoped the prophecy had dictated to be the savior of the Wizarding World had since been slain. His good name and reputation were being torn to shreds by the Minister's office of News and Reports (A polite and eloquent way to say propaganda), Lord Voldemort had returned to mortal form, and most troubling of all, a Harry Potter hailing from another dimension had arrived.

Anyone of these events was a tragedy on its own, as such a threat to the stability of the British Wizarding World could only be, but this combination of circumstances in such a short amount of time made British Wizarding affairs as stable as nitroglycerin. Dumbledore firmly believed that Harry Potter was the mechanism that would trigger the explosion.

Harry Potter struck him as a clone of Tom Riddle; too much power, and too little in the way of moral inhibitions. Dethroning the goblin King, defying the Headmaster, and creating strife in the order only served to reinforce this notion. Harry Potter had power: stealing his phoenix, being a former Headmaster of Hogwarts as Hogwarts had confirmed, and killing goblins without visible retribution proved that without a doubt. But as much as he claimed his only objective was to return home, Albus had doubts. For one, if that was his objective, then he proved to be a believer of "the ends justify the means" as his killing of goblins could attest. For another, it seemed like he was prepared to wreck the entire British Wizarding World just to return home. Where would that leave everyone else except living under Voldemort's tyrannical rule?

Harry Potter was nuisance, a madman with too much power, deluded by his own visions of returning home. His designs on returning home could potentially destroy the Wizarding World. The goblins were an example: eventually, other country's contingents of goblins would arrive in Britain to restore order. Dumbledore knew that Britain could not survive that two-front war: fighting Voldemort and the goblins. For the Greater Good, he had to be stopped.

* * *

"My Lord, there has been a leadership change at Gringotts," declared Lucius Malfoy softly. He was hoping that the news he was about to deliver, and apparently he was the first to deliver it, was not about to result in his Lord's "displeasure."

"King Ragnok has been deposed?" His master asked softly. Lucius nodded, steeling himself for the punishment that might come at any moment. "Who has replaced him?"

"King Kemsphat the glorious is the new goblin King," replied Lucius.

"And is he more willing to 'negotiate'?" The Dark Lord questioned.

"We don't know yet," Lucius grounded out after several seconds of inner conflict.

"Well then, send a contingent to parlay with the goblins," Voldemort commanded. Malfoy turned away, when Voldemort spoke again. "Oh, and Lucius?" Malfoy turned back, afraid of what his Master was about to do. "Good Work," the Dark Lord chuckled softly, satisfied at nearly giving his servant a heart attack.

* * *

"May I please have an audience with the Gurg of your Giant clan? Harry asked the two Giant sentries.

The giants looked at each other, and simultaneously raised their clubs to pound Harry into pulp. A wave of his wand, and the two clubs turned into two, fifty-foot anacondas that wrapped around the sentry's heads. Harry watched dispassionately as his transfigured serpents choked the life out of the Giants. When both had collapsed, Harry waved his wand to return the snakes back to club form. "I said please," he commented neutrally.

He walked up the jagged mountain path looking for signs of the Giant clan. He'd been searching for three days, attempting to make contact with the Giants. He wasn't having much luck.

He reached the top of the pathway to find one of the biggest Giants he'd ever seen, and that was saying something, standing at thirty-five feet tall, and blocking his path forward.

"_Why are you here, trespasser_?" The Giant roared angrily in some dialect of Scandinavian.

"_May I please have an audience with your Gurg_?" Harry responded in the same dialect, hoping this giant was amenable to reason.

His hopes were dashed when this Giant raised his club as well. Only to have them reignited as the Giant turned and walked away. Harry lowered the wand he'd drawn underneath his jacket, and began following the Giant.

After a few hours of walking, they both reached the Giant's encampment. The trouble was, three hooded figures dressed in black were already there.

"Who the hell are you?" spat the familiar voice of Adrian Yaxley.

"Greetings, gentlemen. Our Lord has commanded me here to ensure the Giants bow to reason," Harry replied smoothly.

Yaxley turned to his companions. Harry unconcernedly walked forward, as if trying to speak with the Gurg. As he passed the three Death Eaters, he waved his wand under his jacket, and sent a blasting curse at them. Only Yaxley managed to evade the curse. The other two Death Eaters were messily blown apart in a shower of gore. Yaxley, seeing that Harry was a powerful opponent waved his wand to trigger a rock slide, and dissapparated before Harry could finish him off.

The use of magic had set the Giants off. Thirteen armed Giant warriors charged towards Harry, intent on ripping him limb from limb. Harry brushed some of the Death Eater's blood off of him, and then raised his wand to encase himself in a steel dome. With a resounding crack unheard by the enraged Giants, he dissapparated to where he had seen the Gurg.

He reappeared with his wand at the Giant leader's throat. All of the Giants stopped what they were doing, and watched the scene completely startled.

"_You are Gurg Jagbusk_?" Harry asked in the same Scandinavian dialect his Giant guide had spoken earlier.

The Gurg grunted in confirmation. "_What are you doing here_? _Why have brought destruction to my clan_?"

"_I have not brought destruction, but resurrection_," Harry replied. "_Those men represent a vigilante organization that, had your clan sided with, would have rained ruination down on your people. I represent a different organization and I, unlike those other stooges, have come to you its leader. And I promise a future filled with land and prosperity as long as we work together. Or, perhaps I can do just as you said, and usher in a new wave of destruction if you oppose me. Already, two of your sentries, and three opposition ambassadors, have met their ends. Do you wish to perish as well_?"

The Giant Leader shook his head. "_What guarantees can you offer my clan_?" he snarled. "_The other men promised the same as you_."

Harry pulled a piece of paper. "_This is a deed to ten miles of otherwise unoccupied land to the north of this mountain. Your people, a little more than fifty in number, can grow and prosper on this deserted tract of land. The surrounding hundred miles, as well, are deserted. I give this to you_," said Harry handing Jagbusk the deed, "_As a sign of honesty and good faith in our dealings. However, there is a price. There is a civil war raging in Great Britain, and you may be approached once more with an offer of alliance. Siding with me means siding against them. Now then, do we have an accord_?"

Jagbusk nodded, and Harry smiled. Five Giant clans down, twenty more to go.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: A special thanks to all who've read and reviewed. For this story, I'm thinking about a two-week per post schedule, making the next update either Jan 29 or Feb 5. I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Four: Einstein's Definition Of Insanity

Green orbs stared into wide, tennis ball eyes, and Harry began screaming. He rocketed up from his warm bed, and landed onto the floor. Finally, a few seconds after shock and auror instinct kicked in, Harry had his wand in hand pointed at whatever was disturbing him. Boy, his reactions were really getting slow.

"Is you being Harry Potter, sir?" the creature asked. And comprehension finally slammed into Harry.

"Dobby?" he shrieked.

The house-elf, who may or may not have been Dobby, stared at him in undisguised awe. "How does Harry Potter sir know of me?" he breathed. Okay, it was Dobby!

Harry's emotions, something he always tried to keep under lock and key, escaped their confinement. He hadn't seen Dobby in… decades! Not since…

"How are you doing, Dobby?" Harry asked desperately. He could never have imagined his old companion… his old friend, would be here, like this.

Dobby stared at him again. "I is doing well sir," he replied cheerfully after a fewminutes that appeared to be spent processing the question. "I have a message for you sir, from Big Head Dumby-dorr."

Suddenly, Harry's paranoia reared its ugly head. _Could Dumbledore have known about Dobby and…?_ His rational mind came back into operation. No! Dumbledore could never have known. "What is the message?" he asked in what he hoped sounded like a calm, composed, and rather neutral voice.

Dobby shifted uncomfortably. "I is feeling bad sirs. I just remember Big Head's instructions, and I is supposed to deliver the message when you is awake and dressed for the day. Dobby is a bad elf!" he whined, breaking down into tears.

"It's all right Dobby!" said Harry soothingly, patting his old friend on the back. "Listen, I'll just get dressed if you wait a few minutes, and the Headmaster will be none the wiser. Everyone will still know that you're a good elf!"

Twenty minutes later, Harry had showered and dressed at a lightning fast pace he'd never imagined he could operate at. "All right, what's the message?" Harry asked.

"Well, sir," Dobby began, and then leapt at him. Dobby connected with his arm, and with a pop and a feeling he hadn't experienced in nearly a century, the walls of Hogwarts vanished, only to be replaced by two dozen familiar figures pointing wands at him.

"Good day, Harry!" came Albus Dumbledore's cheerful voice, as Harry began to kick himself mentally.

"Oh course, I didn't ward against House-elves," he muttered. He remembered back to his time in Malfoy Manor, when Dobby had rescued him, and how the elf had told him afterwards that the only reason he was able to pop through the wards was because the Malfoys had never removed his signature from them. Harry had asked why, in second year, he didn't just show up and pop him back to "safety" and Dobby had explained that the wards around Harry's "home", his person- probably placed by Dumbledore-, and Hogwarts herself prevented a non-friendly House-elf from transporting people. His escape from the manor, via Dobby, was, once again, the result of a once-in-a-million fluke and an incredible amount of luck.

"Good Morning, Headmaster!" Harry replied equally as cheerfully, summoning up part of his insane, psychopath persona that had served him well against the Goblins and Giants. Yep, all the members of the Order were there. Harry was already imagining how Dobby had spent the twenty minutes he'd spent getting ready for the day, alerting the Headmaster, who then alerted the Order. He sighed mentally; he'd used the House-elves' natural ability to track people via magical signatures to his advantage in the past, but this time, the tables had been turned. In the time Harry had been thinking, Dumbledore was quite clearly floored by his actions, as were several of the Order members who were on the up and up with whom Harry actually was.

"I must say it is a pleasure to see you again, my boy!" he continued genially.

"How I wish I could say the same to you!" Harry responded in the same airy, cheerful tone. "I am curious- what has happened that you've been forced to interrupt my beauty sleep?"

"Oh, nothing, dear boy, nothing at all," Dumbledore smirked. "Just dealing with the matter of containing a subversive element."

"That's nice," Harry commented. "So what am I doing here, then?" he asked innocently.

Surprise flickered across Dumbledore's face. "Surely you've figured it out? You, sir, **are** the subversive element in question."

"How am I a subversive element?" Harry demanded, scandalized. After all the illegal activities Dumbledore had engaged in throughout his life, no matter the dimension, he had the balls to say Harry was, in effect, a menace to society!

"You mean that killing Goblins and brokering deals with Giant clans are order enhancing enterprises?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically.

"They can be if a Dark Lord plans to convert them to his banner," Harry countered.

"Harry, I don't know what you're doing but you have no plan!" Dumbledore declared.

Harry sighed. "You just don't get it, do you?" he muttered. "I freely admit I don't have a plan! I don't even have to have a plan! I'M USING YOURS!" he shouted.

Everyone surrounding him, including Dumbledore, visibly flinched. There was silence for a long moment. "I'm afraid I don't understand," Dumbledore whispered gently.

"Don't you!" Harry snarled. "My bringing the Goblins and Giants into line was what the old Dumbledore, who you've proven yourself to be the same as time and time again, had suggested as a plan to counter Voldemort's actions. If you think my plan is subversive and disruptive to society, then at least recognize whose brainchild it was! This is your doing!"

Dumbledore just stared at him, words apparently failing him. "If you hate me so, as you've proven time and time again, then why would you follow a plan crafted by me?" he asked incredulously after a moment's silence.

Harry looked away from the old man, unable to bear the sight of him at that moment. "Because you might be a complete and utter bastard, no matter the time or circumstance, but you're a complete and utter bastard who knew what he was doing. Who gave me the most trouble last time I had to fight Voldemort? The Giants and the Goblins! Of course I'd be using your plan! I never claimed that you were an idiot! Quite the opposite in fact; you're an intelligent, ruthless, manipulative BASTARD!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat after Harry's rant. "Be that as it may, you are too powerful and chaotic to be left to your own devices. I'm afraid, for the Greater Good…"

Harry's wand pressed into Dumbledore's neck, though no one in the room saw him draw it, and consequently they hadn't had a chance to stop him. "Considering all your "Greater Good" has done for me, I'd rather you didn't talk about it," Harry declared in a dangerously low voice. He pulled his wand away slowly, though it was still pointed at the old man's heart. "Enough with all the bullshit. What. Do. You. Want?"

"Harry, surely you can see how much of a danger you are-"

"No, I can't see it. From my vantage point, you sir, are the menace to society." He turned to look at the other Order members, who, in another lifetime, had provided him with a lifeline in his darkest hour. Excluding those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice before he could even reach that miserable time in his life. Emmeline Vance. Hestia Jones. Alastor Moody. Arthur Weasley. Dedalus Diggle. Mundungus Fletcher. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Filius Flitwick. Minerva McGonagall. Sturgis Podmore. Kingsley Shacklebolt. And six other people he'd never known. As well as his "parents", Sirius, and Remus's wife. All with their wands pointed at him. And of course the Headbastard; the string that tied everyone's world together. It was a testament to how different a world he was in that friends and allies in one lifetime could attain the possibility of being his worst enemies here.

"Harry, I'm trying to be reasonable-"

"Bull. Shit." Harry snarled. He slipped into what he called his "Joker" persona, his full psychopath form, for acting like a maniac; the menace to society Dumbledore wished to see him as. He looked around at the assembled crowd once more. "Do you know why you've really brought me to this little… *ehem* group therapy session?" Harry's voice dropped down even lower. "It's because you're afraid. You are afraid that **I** somehow have a plan that will derail everything you've been working towards. I mean, do I really look like a guy who has a plan all together? I mean, if you think about it, it's been **your** plan that's shaped the world to its present state. You, sir, are the very model of a schemer- a planner- someone who shapes the landscape around them to react to their tiniest wish. The truth is that you've never wanted to be a product of your environment. Rather, you are the very essence of a landscaper, and thus, you wish your environment was a product of your actions. And that fact that I'm here, and taking over, doing things with more efficiency than you ever could muster, has to be driving you up the wall." Dumbledore said nothing. "It is, isn't it! It's truly driving you nuts that in a matter of weeks, I've accomplished what you've only dreamed of. Does it depress you… imagining that I might someday become the hero you could never be?"

"What nonsense are you spewing?" Dumbledore asked heatedly. Perhaps his comments had hit home.

Harry just smiled at him, the very definition of a cat-ate-the-canary smile. "You do know what I'm talking about. It's just in your nature to deny, deny, deny," he ended musically. "So, I'll ask again: If everything went your way today, then what would you want to happen with regard to me?"

"Harry, what I would want most is for you to see reason!" Harry glared at him, and Dumbledore backed down. "Failing that, I was wondering if you'd reconsider becoming the DADA professor."

Harry considered the idea for a minute. On the one hand, he had way too much free time on his hands. On the other, teaching at Hogwarts, with Dumbledore as Headmaster, when he looked no older than a teenager, was unappealing. On the other hand, now that Dumbledore had dislodged his head from his backside, and found a way to potentially abduct Harry whenever he felt like, or until Harry found a new living space in which he could ward against house-elves, pretending to fall in line and stay docile while acting from the shadows seemed better than constantly running. On the other hand, Dumbledore was a manipulative bastard, who wouldn't let this lie, and who would always, consistently, without fail, push the envelope, and try to add in more restrictions and limitations. On the other hand, if he didn't take the job, then Dolores Umbridge would probably become the defense professor, and he almost certain that she was as much of a bitch here as she was back home. On the other hand, even if he became Defense Professor, Umbridge would probably still be placed inside the castle, and a year or so of dealing with Umbridge, was a clearly defined "cruel and unusual" punishment. On the other hand, if he was in the castle with her, than slipping some Draught of Living Death, or one of many possible poisons into her glass suddenly became a very satisfying possibility. On the other hand… wait a second, what was on the other hand?

"Sorry, Headmaster, but I need a little time to think about your offer. Perhaps, in a few days, I'll get back to you," Harry demurred.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Harry," Dumbledore replied, his genial mask back in place.

"I'm afraid you can't stop me," Harry snarled back. While he was speaking he had snuck a hand under his jacket, to a little jar he kept with him at all times. On the last syllable, he dropped the jar from his inside jacket pocket. It exploded with a tremendous BOOM! As several of Hogwarts aged windows shattered. While everyone else was stunned by the burst of noise, Harry had taken off running. Thankfully, he'd created a sound ward for whenever he had to use that sonic weapon of mass annoyance. He was out the front door before any among the assembled Order members had recovered from their sensory overload.

* * *

He truly was on the fence. It was the stupidest, most ridiculous, most idiotic thing he could do: putting himself back under Dumbledore's power. Even giving the offer any consideration was proof of what Einstein once said: "The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits." He was shaking his head. What was that shit about stopping Umbridge, anyway? Seriously, why not just off her and end the dilemma? In short, what he was really on the fence about what the fuck was wrong with him!

He had not been thinking straight; that much was clear. The question was- why? Once upon a time, elf-wards would have been left unsaid, because after Dobby's rescue, he'd come to appreciate the havoc a house-elf could cause. Indeed, he hadn't even warded his hotel room! Was he asking for disaster to strike? Was he trying to invite it inside! If "his" Alastor Moody had known, he'd have limped into the room after blowing his door off its hinges, and pulled him into a chair and lectured him for two straight hours on Constant Vigilance. And what was with his bloodthirstiness! The old Harry Potter would have thought long and hard before giving Ragnok the ax, and killing Giant sentries, no matter the why's, was unthinkable. And why was he following Dumbledore's plan; the old fool had laid it out for effect, hadn't he? It was just to show how differently he would have operated than Fudge, one of the things that would have convinced the fool that Dumbledore was throwing his hat back into the political ring. Merlin knows how he wanted to avoid dredging up memories of that shitstorm once more! His head began swimming, and his vision became fuzzy. He gasped, and began supporting himself on his bathroom sink. He tilted his head to try and look in the mirror.

He looked fine. Really. Aside from his slightly bloodshot eyes, from lack of sleep, he looked perfectly normal, the same as he would've looked… at fifteen. Aside from the starvation thing, of course. Coming to terms with the fact that he'd somehow ended up in his young body still hadn't happened. He still had no idea how he'd arrived here, something that he was becoming more convinced all the time held the key for how to leave. If only there was a way to…

Harry clapped a hand to his head in shock. Wow, something must be really wrong with him. Under any other circumstances, this solution would have not eluded him these many weeks. It would have been so damn obvious! "Fawkes!" he shouted.

His phoenix, doing some scouting and espionage at his behest, flamed into view. His chirp indicated to Harry that he'd caught him at a bad time. Harry had a few seconds to admire, as he always did, Fawkes's beauty. Of course, the fact that Fawkes was an immortal firebird tank ward-buster made him infinitely more beautiful than his regular, rather ugly, appearance.

"Look, I'm sorry buddy, I know you were in the middle of something that was probably really important, but I had an idea," Harry rambled. Fawkes, as was usual when Harry went to present some inane idea to him, rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No listen, didn't you once tell me something about phoenixes and other dimensions. I mean, that's how I didn't lose my mind when I learned I was in another dimension at first, you'd already told me it was possible...! Didn't you?"

Fawkes rolled his eyes again and chirped something to the effect of, "You really called me here for this!" He saw Harry's desperate look, and decided to save the lecture for later. He nodded solemnly.

"That's how you're here, isn't it!" Harry cried. Another nod from his trusty companion. "All this time, I was wondering-" his train of thought derailed as his desire to get back to the topic at hand resurfaced. "All right, then, Fawkes can you go back into the other dimension and have a look around- maybe, oh, I don't know: find out how I came here?" Harry asked eagerly.

Fawkes seemed to be considering for a second. Finally, after what Harry would swear was the longest moment in his life, he nodded, and disappeared in a burst of flame. Harry sighed in relief. Maybe, just maybe, when Fawkes finally returned, he'd have some answers, or, he didn't even want to start to hope for it, a way home.

He idly withdrew his wand from his pocket. Just in case he had to wait even longer, he began warding his hotel room, making sure that Dobby, or any other house-elf, could be sent to "retrieve" him… ever again.

* * *

"HOW THE HELL DID THAT NOT WORK!" Remus Lupin was shouting to the order member's who'd participated in the "Harry containment mission." Their first even Order operation had resulted in complete failure, and what all involved in said operation wanted to know was- why? How could they have possibly allowed Harry to escape? Dumbledore, in particular, was especially ticked; he'd tried after he regained his senses to send out another one of his house-elves to retrieve Harry, and the damn menace had apparently discovered a way to counteract them, as the elves' tears of failure proved.

"Do you have any idea what on earth it was that Harry used to escape?" Dumbledore asked in a voice of forced calm as he turned to Mrs. Potter.

Lily sniffed. Her participation in this enterprise could only be described as forced. James was patting her arm gently, trying, in vain, to comfort his distraught wife. "We could find no traces of it- no magical signatures and no signs of any substances," interjected James on his wife's behalf. He was pissed about how things gone. "What we want to know is this: What were you hoping to accomplish?" he snarled. Sirius looked mutinous as well. He'd thought that "other" Harry was just like a traveler passing through, one who wanted to be gone from this dimension as soon as possible. Now the Headmaster had stepped right up and kicked the proverbial anthill all over the place. What was Dumbledore thinking?

Whatever fruits Dumbledore's thinking was ready to bear was interrupted by a letter falling on his head. The Headmaster, who had grown increasingly frustrated by the series of circumstances he'd found himself involved in, lost his composure and began angrily stomping on the letter. After a few minutes of stomping on the letter, to try and relieve his stress, while the other Order members watched on in shocked silence, he finally ceased his efforts and calmly stepped back.

"Umm, Albus…" Minerva trailed off, stunned by the randomness of the Headmaster's actions.

Dumbledore picked up the now filthy letter, withdrew his wand, and waved it to restore the letter to like-new condition. He checked the heading. "It's for you, Sirius," Dumbledore said quietly, trying to convey the significance of him getting a letter at this time.

_Sirius (And other Order Members who will also invariably read this as well),_

_I suppose I was hoping that our little talk a while back would convey the messages "I just want to get home" and "I'm just trying to not leave you in the lurch, by doing what I'm doing." I also suppose, given your actions today, my hope was sadly misplaced. I admit clearly, and for everyone to see: I thought you all could be reasoned with, and I was wrong._

_I mean really, becoming the DADA professor, again? I just want to go home. Really! I'm not joking! That's all I want! While I'm waiting for a way home to magically appear, I am trying to make your lives better by disposing of these inconvenient nuisances we all know so well: nuisances such as renegade goblins, giant clans, and perhaps even vampires. All of these creatures made for rather difficult opponents last time we fought Voldemort-_

_-AND DEFEATED HIM! REALLY! WHAT THE FUCK IS SO HARD TO GET ABOUT THAT! WE WON! YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE "ORDER" IS HOPELESSLY OUTCLASSED! AND YET YOU ALL STILL INSIST ON FOLLOWING ALBUS "BATSHIT INSANE" DUMBLEDORE TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH! WHAT! THE! FUCK!_

_So let me try one more time. One! Last! Time! I'll even spell it out in small words for all Order members of lesser intelligence: Me. Trying. To. Go. Home! Me. Give. Gift. Destroy. Many Enemies! You. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone! Is that clear enough for even the wise, common-sense lacking, Headbastard! Just leave me alone, and I'll be gone before you know it._

_Farewell Bitches,_

_HJP-B_

"Albus! For the love of god, WHY DO WE KEEP MESSING WITH HIM?" shouted Sirius.

Dumbledore sighed, and waved his wand to conjure chairs for the meeting he'd never wanted to have. Unfortunately "other Harry" had forced his hands. For the Greater Good, now was the time to reveal exactly what was happening, and why it had to happen.

"My friends! I have hesitated to reveal this to you in case Death Eaters had managed to capture or subdue any of you, and thus gain this critical piece of information." He sighed and took a breath and then recited the prophecy word for word. All of the Order members, even those who'd heard it before like Lily and James, were shocked to hear the prophecy. "When this prophecy was first given, there were two possible candidates: Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. Both have since been deceased. But with the new version of Harry Potter, his arrival is a sign. He is the prophecy child, here to defeat Voldemort. If we let him leave…"

He had almost all of the dissenting Order members: hook, line, and sinker… They now understood the importance of keeping Harry here! The only members who still looked to object to what had to happen were, as always, Sirius, Lily, and James. Even Remus looked to be sold on his grand vision of the future. A future without Voldemort…

* * *

His hotel room warded, a clear-as-day message sent to the goddamn Order, and he could now turned his attention to a constant concern: his sanity, or lack thereof as the case seemed to be lately. Sighing he set himself up sitting cross-legged on his freshly made bed. It was times like this that almost made him lose his appreciation for his lovely soft and comfortable sheets. Hmm, maybe, when he found a way to get home, he should just grab these sheets on the way out the door… He began trying to curb his thoughts; trying to let calmness and clarity seep into his mind in the temporary calm, like a brief lapse in a hurricane.

He opened his eyes and he knew was now in his mindscape. He could feel the worn rug made of Griffon hair underneath him. A thought returned, as grief fluttered over to him in the form of remorse for the old family Griffin: Golden-Wings. His mindscape began losing focus, as he knew would happen when he started allowing external thoughts to disrupt it. He began emptying his head of thoughts again, and soon, his mindscape attained solidity once more.

Grief tried to bombard him once more, as he looked out onto the horizon to see rippled on Lake Potter right as the Sun was setting, which prevented him from telling where the giant ball of fire ended, and where it began behind the silvery lake. He turned to look at his Living Room: two comfy, durable couches, portraits littering the mantelpieces and adorning the walls, and his stone pensive placed on its familiar pedestal near to the Trophy Room (Or as he had taken to calling it: The Rubbish room). Another bout of grief, exponentially more powerful than his thoughts on a rug his wife had made for him for their sixtieth anniversary, slammed into him, and his mindscape disappeared from view. For a second, just a second, he'd thought he was home again.

He'd gone through a few dozen tissues trying to regain emotional control. One of his complaints as he'd gotten older was he couldn't go twenty damn minutes sitting in his Living Room, or relaxing out on the deck, without someone, be it a Potter kid, grandkid, great-grandkid, or great-great-grandkid (and in a few months he would have had the privilege to say great-great-great-grandkid), or family friends and allies like the Longbottoms dropping in and interrupting his peace and quiet. For a few seconds, standing in a mental projection of his living room, he'd almost expected that to be true, for someone to interrupt him from his peace, to wake up and find out that all this nonsense was just a bad dream…

He sighed as he finally regained his composure. If he stopped losing his concentration at every turn, and just relaxed, then he would discover something, perhaps important, and whatever he found out would probably be a definite step in the homewards direction. Gently, he once again tried to empty his mind. Once more, after several intense minutes of concentration, he opened his eyes to see his Living Room, looking out on Lake Potter. Except… now that he was trying to hold off any type of thought, memory, or emotion not related to enforcing his concentration or keeping his mindscape up, he was noticing… something felt off…

He heart footsteps. Something was coming towards him; walking with apparent care and ease across the hardwood floor of his Trophy Room. The figure came into view, and -Harry nearly dropped his wand in shock. He gripped it tightly- it seemed likely his wand would see some action in the next few minutes. He stared at something he'd never, ever, imagined he'd see here.

"Hello, Harry Potter!"

AN the 2nd: WAHAHA! EVIL CLIFFIE ALERT! The title refers to the famous Einstein quote, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result." I hope you all enjoyed. If any among you out there have constructive criticism, please, by all means, drop me a line. That said, I believe constructive criticism is identifying a problem or aspect of an author's writing you don't really like, and suggesting a way it could be improved. Thanks again for reading, and please, please, review.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. This story will probably be updated every two to three weeks- maybe even longer now that I'm going to start turning some of my one-shots into full-length fics. I don't own Harry Potter… anyone who is confused on that point should wiki J.K. Rowling. Oh, and the title quote comes from The Dark Knight. Also, thanks to David305, who pointed out some errors in this chapter that need be rectified. He is really a godsend to the poor author in betaless limbo, like myself. Enjoy!

Chapter Five: "Sometimes The Truth Isn't Good Enough"

"BUT YOU'RE….. You're… -ME!" he exclaimed breathlessly in a tone of complete and utter shock.

"Bingo, Harry," An exact reflection of his teenage self, right down to the messy hair and duplicate garments, replied. His voice was even the same!

"But- but… HOW?" he stammered.

"Magic?" his doppelganger suggested coyly. His posture turned serious and he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm not really sure either. All I have are suspicions as to how we arrived here- nothing concrete."

"How we arr- WE"RE IN MY BLOODY MIND!" he shouted angrily. What the ruddy hell was going on?

"Yes I've noticed that. Though I have come to think of this dominion as being my own," he replied airily.

"Really? You've come to think of my mind as your home?" Harry asked dubiously.

"It's not your mind, Harry. It's mine," he finished quietly.

"How d'ya figure that?" Harry asked skeptically. "You're dead!" he pointed out.

"No, Harry…. I was never dead," the doppelganger declared dramatically.

Harry stared at him, feeling a headache coming on. "But everyone said you were dead- killed by Voldemort on Halloween of 81." He was struck suddenly by the thought that what "everyone" said was normally worth jack shit to him.

"Isn't what "everyone" says normally worth shit to guys like us?" His reflection asked, echoing Harry's own thoughts. He paused a second. "Now then- to how I'm not dead… no idea really. All I know is that I was on the receiving end of an AK one second, kind of like a disembodied ghost for the next decade plus, fand alive again, with you in my mind, the next instant. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

It was as if lightning struck Harry. His parents hadn't been there that night; hence their still being alive. Voldemort's power had broken anyway, but Harry Potter had "died." So that meant that whatever arcane protection his mother had used must have relied on her death being the catalyst. So where did that leave him? "You know that the killing curse normally destroys the soul, but leaves the body untouched, right?" he asked the "other" Harry in a rush. He nodded hesitantly. "Then this somehow… maybe… maybe it worked the opposite way for some reason?" he suggested. He saw his counterpart's incredulous look. "I mean that you had no body, so maybe your spirit roamed around, or you were in a coma or something. Yeah… you're right, that sounds like bullshit. Fuck it, I don't know either. I guess all I really know is that however I've arrived, it brought you back into consciousness as well."

"Yes, thanks for that I guess," doppelganger said airily. "So are we cool with this?"

"Yeah I guess I- WAIT A MINUTE!" he shouted as it dawned on him. "You're why my emotions are going haywire!"

His reflection shrugged. "I guess… I mean if we're here, in my body, sharing it, then it's possible my emotions are affecting yours. For instance, after seeing what Ragnok had gotten up to in another time, I was not about to let that poor, miserable excuse for a goblin continue breathing if I could help it. I also wasn't going to let one of his most efficient killers retain his life if I could help it. Anyway, I also guess that's how you're looking like a teenager again."

"So to sum this up: you somehow lived on after Halloween in 1981, were kinda reborn into me, or maybe me into you or something like that, I somehow traveled here, we're both inhabiting your/my body though I seem to be in control most of the time, except when your emotions cause me to act erratically, and we now kind of have a split personality thing going on. Does that sound about right?" he clarified, and "Harry" nodded. "I need a drink," he declared after a moment of thought. He paused. "I think I also need to write all this down for future reference, because there's no fucking way I'm going to remember any of this."

"Harry, you're breaking the first rule of the Wizarding World: you're trying to understand it. The Simpsons put it best: when in doubt- a wizard did it," his reflection replied, and Harry sighed into his hand.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about the rulebook," Harry declared, clapping a hand to his head. He paused. "Just to clarify, make sure things are still the same and all that, the first rule of Fight Club-"

"-is, you do not talk about the Fight club," "Harry" interjected. "Yes Harry, that's still the same, or will be, because that movie hasn't come out yet, dumbass. But hey, there is a silver lining. Think of it this way, there are going to be a few elements of stability in your typically chaotic life at some point in the future."

Harry thought for a second, and was actually slightly comforted by that sentiment. "So where does that leave us? I mean your bloodthirstiness prompted me to start massacring goblins, giants, and worst of all, it made me consider working with Dumbledore again. Can I trust you to not keep screwing with my judgment?"

"Can I trust you to not continue making boneheaded decisions?" "Harry" countered. "You wanted to let Ragnok live after all that shit he put you through last time! Even after all indicators pointed to the fact that this version of the goblin king was also an unrepentant asshole who would betray us at the drop of a hat, you were still unwilling to make the tough call! I had to! And I'd do it again… in a heartbeat! And, no offense intended, you're letting your whole feud with Dumbledore adversely affect your decision making ability!" He saw the original Harry about to erupt like a volcano, and he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hear me out, dammit! I don't mean he isn't a manipulative asshole who set us up to be a sacrificial lamb! I'd never say that!" he spat. "But what I am saying is that we can accomplish more, in terms of getting home- yes, after seeing the good life you had back home, I want out of here as well- by working under the old bastard's nose. If you're at Hogwarts, then it's much easier for you to raid the Headmaster's private library than randomly sneaking in on a mad hunch that there's something there you need to see. And, seeing as I know you because I am you, I can tell that, in addition to many, many other things that strike a contrast with the fundamental laws of decency, there are things you've placed on your drawing board and jotted down on our to-do list that require open access to Hogwarts. Now, I understand your logic for why we shouldn't, and I agree. By the way, the whole Umbridge thing was an Ad-Hominem argument. Let her burn- now wait, I take it back: I like what you have planned for her a lot better."

"Glad I'm not on the receiving end of across-the-board disapproval from you," Harry commented dryly. He turned serious. "Look, 'Harry II', we have to come to an accord here! Now then, we both agree getting home- it's the main objective. Everything else falls under one of three categories: leisure, more leisure, or a potential step towards getting home. You already know that the next big thing is the whole Ministry plan, which still needs preparation time. So, besides the Vampire thing, any other ideas on how to pass the time?"

'Harry II' smiled a cat-ate-the-canary-smile, reminding Harry of another character in one of the plays his wife had loved; also with a 'II' in its name. "Well, as it so happens, 'Harry I', I do have a few ideas you might find useful."

* * *

Minister Cornelius Fudge rubbed his aching, sore body just as the Goblin "Ambassador" (read: menace to society) left the room. He would love to throw the cocky bastard into Azkaban, or perhaps have him made into pies… he smiled idly at his recollection of the good old days. He shook himself out of his trance- the files were all destroyed, and those involved "terminated", so only a legilimens, or Xeno Lovegood, could ever find out. Blasted man seemed to know every move he made. But, at least, thanks to all his work, when he broke the story, people would simply laugh and scoff and move on. He was especially thankful that was the case here; though he considered his goblin-into-pie program his crowning achievement in wizard-goblin relations, the sheeple would never be able to handle the truth. They would gripe and moan about "morality" and "provocation" and all the other little semantics they engaged in. Ah, the ignorant little sheeple… where was he, again?

Oh, yeah- that damned scourge of the Earth… Potter. Well, no more- he wasn't putting up with this shit anymore. "Gladys, has my four o'clock arrived yet?" he called out to his secretary.

"No, minister," she called back. Fudge sighed and sat down to wait when he felt a knife pressing into his back.

"Good afternoon, Minister," came a gravelly voice from the figure decked out in black who held the knife to him. "What can I do for you?"

"Listen, there is this little ingrate, Potter, the goblin ambassador to the Ministry, I need to… go away. How much extra is the "special" package going to cost me?" he asked eagerly.

The only indication of any surprise was the slight raising of the assassin's eyebrows, and his knife being pulled back. "Minister, with our business relationship, I am willing to go the extra mile gratis… this time. I assume we'll use the regular payment method?"

"Yes, I will be paying in full right after Potter's head adorns a pike," Fudge declared, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"Then our business is concluded, and the next time you see me, I will have a 'gift' for you," his personal assassin declared as he dramatically jumped through his open window.

Fudge sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why did I have to find a personal assassin with a taste for theatrics?" he moaned to the empty office.

* * *

"Look, we're going to handle this my way- no skewering dedicated guards or annoying bureaucrats, or even practicing my drumming on the humpbacked servant's hump," Harry said in his mind. Since his meditation, he and his counterpart had been able to communicate telepathically. As evidenced by the fact that the other "Harry" blew a raspberry back at him.

"Harry" pouted mentally, and muttered, "fine!"

Harry sighed, and resumed walking up the worn path towards the dark and scary looking castle that towered over the landscape… as he suspected, it was like the beginning of a bad horror movie.

"Harry…" came his voice from within his head. "This is a bad idea!"

Harry sighed. "I know," he responded into his head. "I just hope no one feels like taking a sip of my blood, or all bets will be off- basilisk venom and all that."

He reached the large, ornate front doors, and he knocked, just as a clap of thunder echoed throughout the valley. Yes, it was going to be one of those days…

"Goood Eveening," declared a hunchbacked servant in a thick Romanian accent, who had opened the door to admit him. Harry stepped inside as he came to the realization that if the castle's owner employed a cleaning staff, then the country's unemployment rate would plummet into the negatives. "Is the Master expecting you?" The servant asked him.

"No, I'm pretty certain that neither the Count, nor his brethren, had penciled me in for the witching hour," Harry replied. "Disregarding that, is he… available?"

"Please, wait here," the servant commanded as he ambled off to check with the Count. Harry looked around the dusty room with all the covered furniture. And of course, what horror movie reject would be complete without the paintings on the walls whose eyes seemed to follow him around the room. And, oh, how adorable, he even had the spooky chandelier looking like it was only seconds away from crashing to the floor.

"Nice place you have here," Harry commented to the servant as he returned.

The servant paused momentarily, and then bowed, exposing his humpback to the world. "The Master will receive you in the Dining Room," he declared, and then turned about face and walked back into the heart of the den of dust.

Harry followed along, knowing that in the twilight horror film it seemed like he was starring in, he wouldn't get his neck bitten until after the Count had met with him. As they walked in complete silence, Harry couldn't help but notice that the Count really, really seemed to like the mock horror movie theme.

"He will receive you in here," said the servant as he pulled open the door to a room that was only being illuminated by firelight. Harry walked into the room. Well, at least the fire is crackling, both Harry's thought. And there was a well polished table with ornate silverware, and at the head of the table sat…

"So good to see you, young Master Potter," crooned the Count.

Harry rolled his eyes as he sat down. "Listen, can we cut the horror movie bullshit and get down to brass tacks?"

The Count's face fell. "You have no taste for the dramatic, Mr. Potter." He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Very well, I will acquiesce to your request just this once. So why have you come here today?"

"Look, Count Androsky, I am here regarding the Voldemort situation in Britain. Now then, the Ministry says that no, in fact, the Dark Lord isn't alive and well. I say that they're spewing bullshit. A man of your stature knows that their peddling garbage and propaganda. And I also know, that considering the poor relations between Vampire clans and the various Ministries of Europe, you and your brethren have every reason to buy into his promises of a new and better future. In fact, I know that there is a soiree of various influential Vampires of Eastern Europe that is taking place tonight. Where- that I don't know, but what I need is a man inside. Someone to plead my case before things have a chance to get ugly. That's why I'm here," Harry finished.

The Count, Vladimir Androsky, sipped his glass of blood. Harry was suddenly hopeful that Androsky was having a nice cool glass of cattle blood, and not the "donated" human stuff. Because if his drink was a human byproduct, then it was an indicating factor these negotiations might turn… ugly.

"So what you want, young Master Potter, is my support." He was silent for a moment. "As you can imagine, I have heard of you before. The goblin tribes in this region are particularly zealous in demanding your head on a platter. So, bearing that in mind, why shouldn't we hand you over to them? As I and my brethren have come to realize, we may very well be next on your enemies list, so eliminating you is simply a matter of self preservation." He snapped his fingers, and twenty Vampires became visible as the Vampiric Disillusionment spell deactivated. "I had them waiting just in case you decided to pay a little visit, as the airline registry indicated you might. While 'wizards' might be ignorant enough to ignore such useful resources, Vampires such as I realize the power their use gives us. Alas, Master Potter, I do not believe we can come to an accord. However," he gestured to the other Vampires, "They have a counter-offer they would personally like to present- your head on a platter." He laughed at his own poor joke, and Harry rolled his eyes at the typical evil monologue before remembering how much deep shit he was in.

Harry I & II gulped- twenty Vampires with superhuman strength, magical resistance, and a thirst for his blood- not good was putting it very mildly. "Harry, I think this has officially turned ugly," his counterpart declared in his head as he stood up and drew his wand while the opposing Vamps formed a tightly knit circle to surround him.

* * *

A resounding _Crack!_ echoed through the night outside the derelict remnants of a once glorious manor house. From the deserted country lane overlooking the village cemetery, a lone figure dressed in black garb began walking towards the ruins of the manor. As he came closer, the ruins of the Manor fell away to reveal a grand Mansion with sparkling walls, a well kept landscape, heavy warding, and a rather oppressive atmosphere. Said wards washed over the figure and had a similar sensation to slipping into a warm bath. Once the wards had finally allowed him entrance, the figure entered the house through the highly polished marble front doors without any sign of emotion.

Three hallways, two flights of stairs, and a few chats with some of the passing acquaintances later, and the figure stood outside another marble door, which, if possible, seemed to be in even more pristine condition. The figure pushed the door open, and strolled to a snakelike man sitting comfortably in his chair right in front of the fireplace, while gently scratching the head of a snake that sat on his lap.

The relaxed man turned his head to face the newcomer dressed in black. "What news do you have for me?" he asked in a deathly whisper that could barely be heard over the sound of his warm, crackling fire.

"My Lord, I know I have been… absent far too long from your side. I am sorry for this perceived slight upon you. However… the news I have is most interesting. You see…" he pulled down his hood to make sure his Lord heard him, "I need to inform you about the status of one Harry Potter."

Lord Voldemort's only response was to raise an eyebrow at his servant. "Go on, Severus."

* * *

AN the 2nd: As some people might be aware, I used a similar idea in An Education… it's original inception was this fic.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. I apologize for the delay, but expect the next update in late March. That's because I'm moving, and still working on _Mentored By The Gray_. Til' then, thanks for reading. I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Six: Dangling On The Edge

"I think we're going to need a bigger boot," "Harry" told his counterpart.

Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he stared around the room looking for anything that might tip the balance in his favor. The Count had not set the dining room table, and aside from the paintings on the wall and the chandelier that hung fifteen feet over the dining room table, the room was empty of any spare residue Harry could bombard at his opponents and use to make a quick exit. Or he could if the Count hadn't shut and probably locked the doors. "Why would a boot help me defeat two dozen vampires?" he asked mentally, giving up on finding an advantage.

"Okay, wrong scenario for that line. How about: it's been revoked?"

"No! No lines from Mass Effect and no lines from Lethal Weapon! Look, moron, do you have any ideas, or am I going to have to get my ass kicked?" The Vampires present watched him curiously, seemingly daring him to make a move. Harry could never understand the type of super-villian mentality the Count and his minions were displaying. He had Harry outnumbered 20 to 1 and he was letting his opponent make the first move. Hadn't they ever read Peter's Evil Overlord List?

"Okay Harry, you know that sunlight grenade you took with you? It's a start. But you never thought this guy would have twenty Vamps waiting for you. But maybe by casting a sunlight conjuration…"

"No! Look, the grenade might take out half a dozen, but it has too limited a range, and then I'm still outnumbered 14 to 1. And while the magical sunlight thing is a nice idea, the nature of the Vampire's curse only lets them be harmed by fire or real sunlight. But, maybe… okay, I have an idea."

Harry finally withdrew his wand from his jacket pocket, and the vampires tensed. He flung it onto the Count's pristine dining room table, as the Count's eyes remained glued to it. "I don't want to fight you, Count," Harry declared steadily. "Will your honor allow you to attack an unarmed opponent who comes in peace?"

The Count stared at him, his cold, grey orbs staring into Harry's eyes. There was the barest hint of remorse. "Yes," he said simply, without any emotion, and as if on signal, the Vampires assembled collectively lunged towards him.

"Harry, I don't think that worked!"

"Thanks for the input," he snarled as he used wandless magic to help him leap onto the chandelier over the dining room table, only receiving a scratch from one of the approaching Vampires. "Now please shut the hell up! I'm a little busy here!"

As the vampires turned to face him, an enormous explosion rocked the room originating from the point where Harry had stood only seconds before. As blinding light burst forth from the remains of the sun grenade Harry had dropped, at least half of the Vampires began burning in agony as smoke and sulfur wafted into Harry's nostrils, and a dozen screams of terror reached his ears. Or at least it did register for a split second, before the force of the explosion vaulted Harry from the chandelier into the nearby wall.

Harry slammed into the wall, and felt his head split open in agony, as he began struggling to remain conscious. He could barely move, and every breathe he took felt oddly like a small dose of the Cruciatus Curse as applied by Voldemort. He was certain that his leg was broken, and he'd cracked several ribs, and that his head was probably bleeding profusely. He was also certain he looked like a bloody mess. He was never supposed to be so close to the grenade explosion.

Finally, though he knew the agony would be almost unbearable, he raised his shaking arm and summoned his wand to himself. He felt his magic, which had been trying to prevent his injuries from becoming even worse, deplete as his wand flew towards him, and another burst of pain exploded throughout his body. He was barely able to resist screaming out. With short, sloppy, movements, he began casting every numbing charm he knew. By the time pain had begun temporarily subsiding in his body, the remaining half a dozen vampires had recovered and surrounded him with anger blazing in their eyes caused by their fallen comrades. The Count watched on, impassively, almost as if he was curious to see the final outcome of an injured, fatigued, and nearly exhausted Boy-Who-Lived against six relatively healthy, enraged, Vampire warriors. Still shaking, Harry got to his feet, partially clinging to the wall.

The remaining Vampires unsheathed the swords that had been dangling from their hips, and then lunged for him collectively, apparently trying to rectify the mistakes they had made along with their fallen comrades. Even the numerous numbing charms couldn't hold back the new wave of pain that flooded his body as he used magic to once again head in the one direction no Vampire came from: up.

Harry somehow willed his body to summersault back onto the chandelier, and he clung to it for dear life, fearing that his temporary numbing charms would soon give out. Every breath he took, every move he made- invited the possibility that his magic would finally give out, and he'd lose. Realizing the Vampires were readying themselves for one final strike, Harry let go of the chandelier and dropped onto the table, igniting his flame whip. With a loud, resounding crack, he struck at the closest Vampire right at its neck. That was when he noticed that this time, the Vampires hadn't watched and waited, and so he tried to jump away.

He wasn't fast enough to prevent another Vampire from slicing his blade through Harry's leg, and he fell to the floor, screaming. Through his haze of pain, he saw the Vampire that had stabbed him standing over him with an air of triumph, ready to finish him off. As if the pain no longer mattered, Harry slashed his arm upwards, reigniting his fire whip and turning another immortal warrior into dust. He turned his wand down, and used a banishing charm to rocket himself into the air. He saw two Vampires headed for his landing spot, and close together enough for his next trick to work.

Another crisp slash of his wand, and mere nanoseconds before he landed, a fireball emerged, directed at the location of the Vampires. Before they could turn tail and run, they too, were reduced from immortal being to mere dust. He turned and once more, his faithful fire whip had dusted another Vampire. And finally, the last burst of energy wore off, and the pain enveloped him once more. He buckled and fell to his knees, with the last Vampire standing over him, blade raised, to finally finish him off. Gritting his teeth, and deciding if he had to die, he would at least take this bastard with him, he dropped the numbing charms, and used the last of his energy to conjure another fireball, that blew the Vampire back, and had the same disintegrating effect on him as it had on his comrades. Harry fell to the floor at the same moment he heard the Count begin to laugh euphorically. His last thought, before unconsciousness claimed him, was that he had lost after all, because he'd forgotten to kill the Count…

* * *

"You are certain of this, Severus?" Voldemort asked excitedly.

Snape nodded, still on bended knee. "I am, my Lord. As you know, Dumbledore trusts me with these matters. Everything I have told about Harry Potter is true- I swear it!"

Voldemort gingerly rose to his feet. "A dimensional traveler! I can admit I hardly thought such a thing possible before this day." He turned and began pacing. Snape remained kneeling before Voldemort's throne of gold, as if he didn't dare to watch his Master contemplate. "And you claim he and Dumbledore are not… allies?" He paused, as if coming to a decision. "Severus! Summon Bellatrix, Augustus, and Antonin, and then return here!" Voldemort commanded as he retook his seat.

Severus bolted to his feet and quickly fled the room, while Voldemort remained on his throne, sitting comfortably, and mentally planning what had to be done. A few moments later, Severus returned, with Bellatrix, Augustus, and Antonin in tow, all of whom displayed similar measures of disgust at being summoned like this… well, mainly, there disgust was at being summoned by a mere lap dog like Severus. Upon seeing their Lord, all doubts they had were wiped away as the all dropped to their knees, resting in similar positions of subservience.

"Rise!" Voldemort commanded. He waited for his minions to get to their feet. "Severus has reported on the most interesting arrival of one Harry Potter… to our dimension."

"Dimensional Travel, my Lord?" asked Augustus with a quavering voice.

Voldemort suspected such curiosity from the former Unspeakable. "Yes Augustus, you heard me right. Next time you question me over such… trivialities, you will know my wrath!" Rockwood backed away, licked a dog that had been kicked. Voldemort turned back to face all of the Death Eaters present. "Harry Potter, since his arrival here, has killed Ragnok, placed the puppet king Kemsphat on the throne in his stead, disrupted our attempts to bring Giant warriors into our ranks, but more importantly than that, he has been a constant thorn in Dumbledore's side."

"Just command us, my Lord, and it will be done!" spoke Bellatrix in a tone of reverence.

"That sentiment is appreciated, Bella," Voldemort replied, turning to face her with uncommon warmth etched on his face. "But unnecessary," he added, turning away from her and ignoring her crestfallen look. "Harry Potter is cold, calculating, deadly, and perhaps even a tad insane; all qualities that shall serve us well." His pronouncement hung in the air like a blade every other Death Eater aside from Bellatrix drew a collective breath. "For my plans to work, I will need each of you to embark on a little… research project." The Dark Lord retook his seat. "You are to act thusly: Every action Potter takes in between now and November, you are to document and analyze to the highest degree of competency. You can tail him, but do not alert him to your presence, and, if he is alerted, DO NOT MAKE CONTACT!" His servants flinched, but said nothing. "After November… a clear answer will be presented to the question that is Harry Potter. Those are all the orders I have… for now. You are all dismissed." Voldemort idly watched them leave the room, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

* * *

"Interesting tactics, young Master Potter," commented the Count as Harry finally awoke.

"Yeah, well… I try," Harry muttered as he finally regained consciousness, and noted that his head was pounding. He threw off the covers and looked down the bed to see that his broken leg was fully bandaged. He gently turned his head, trying to prevent the familiar pounding of his skull, and saw the Count smiling genially at him.

After years of dealing with Dumbledore, who used similar tactics, Harry was not about to be fooled, not this time. And he wasn't about to forget the 20 on 1 match the Count had arranged. "What the hell are you doing?" Harry snarled.

The Count held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Peace, Master Potter! Peace!" He smiled, with only the barest hint of uncertainty. "It is good to see that you have recovered so quickly. I can admit that I was initially worried after seeing the shape you were in. But I am glad to see you are all right."

"Why? So you can kill me yourself?" Harry replied bitterly. Ignoring the fact that he still felt magically drained from the battle, he raised his hand to summon his wand from wherever it had fallen. His wand soared into his outstretched hand from the bedside table. Harry stared in confusion at the ease involved in recovering his wand, finally realizing that there was more going on than he had first given the Count credit for. "Why am I still alive?" he asked curiously, as he pointed his wand at the Count.

The Count laughed. "Because you've passed my little test," he replied with a chuckle. Harry's confusion only served to further amuse the Count. "You didn't really think I wanted to dispose of such a valuable asset, so soon, Mr. Potter? So I arranged this little… soiree with a few of my comrades that I'd rather I never had to call by that title ever again. Your defeating them proved to me that you are the capable sort that I would be a fool to not ally with."

"It was a test?" Harry asked blankly. "Arranging for me to fight twenty Vampires at once was a test?"

The Count nodded. "Of course, in retrospect, twenty was a high number, but when opportunity knocks, who am I to turn it aside." He paused thoughtfully, as if he had more to say, but didn't know how to say it. He finally sighed, and gestured to the bedroom Harry occupied, decked in a horror movie style to go along nicely with the rest of the castle. "Perhaps you are right, and my sense of aesthetics needs to be tweaked a bit." Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, maybe more than a bit."

Harry felt as if his head had been slammed into a wall again. He grasped it in his hands, trying to understand this odd turn of events. "So let me get this straight: you used my coming to this castle to pit me against twenty Vampires you didn't even like, all as a test of loyalty for me, which I passed? Oh, and you agree the horror movie thing has got to go?"

The Count nodded and smiled, seeing that Harry was finally catching on.

"You can't make this shit up," grumbled Harry II in his head.

* * *

"Has Harry Potter been found?" Albus Dumbledore asked the Potters desperately. He was attempting to ignore the hostility he was now facing from some of his oldest friends and allies, the Potters, the Lupins, and Sirius Black. Yet it was still disconcerting to have face this clearly incensed crowd who sat across from him gritting their teeth and with snarls firmly fixed on their face, so much like Severus… speaking of which, where was Severus? Dumbledore just realized he hadn't seen his Potions master in a few hours, and they really needed to have a meeting concerning his teaching methods. He needed to make sure that Severus modified his curriculum to satisfy the Ministry spy. Ah well, he would turn up eventually, and the Potters and company would still be sitting across from him, scowling, at that time.

"No, Albus, Harry Potter has not been found!" declared James in a voice of forced calm. "Which begs the question: why are we looking for him in the first place?"

Dumbledore blanched at the question. "Surely you have come to understand how much of a threat he is to the Wizarding World."

Lily, shrieked, actually shrieked, and Sirius had to pull her back from physically attacking him, though he looked like he wished to follow her example. "No, Albus, I don't think we get it. Could you possibly explain the whole thing once more time?" James asked, still careful to retain his calm, neutral tone.

"He is a danger to society. He is powerful, and at the same time, reckless, and perhaps even borderline psychotic," Dumbledore declared. "If we don't stop him now, then he may take further action that results in the continued destabilization of the Wizarding World."

"ALBUS! SHUT! UP!" Lily roared, completely losing her cool and attempting once more to psychically harm the Headmaster. Remus grabbed on to Lily's other side to help Sirius in restraining her. Together with Sarah, they left Dumbledore's office. Only James remained behind,

"No Albus, I don't understand," James replied once Lily had left the room. "The only danger I see comes from your continued provocation of our son." He reached into his robe pocket, and withdrew something they'd all agreed to sign onto last night. "I have here a document Lily, Sirius, Remus, Sarah, and I signed after some intense discussion last evening… it is our resignation from the Order." Dumbledore's moth fell open, and he suddenly felt far older than he ever had.

"James… you can't be serious!" Dumbledore finally managed to utter after several moments of uncomfortable staring at him.

James sighed. "This hasn't been an easy decision, Headmaster. However, I can assure you that we are all serious… or at very least, one fifth Sirius." The slight smile at his joke almost immediately returned to a frown. "We just can not support your agenda against our son, and our very inclusion in the Order implies support in your cause we just do not believe in anymore. We are still firmly opposed to You-Know-Who, but at this time, we feel that you and your methods are not the best solution to this conflict." James stood up from his chair, and began inching towards the door.

"BUT… James, we must remain united against Lord Voldemort! We can not condone the actions taken by subversive elements like Harry Potter! We must-"

"I know all your arguments, Albus." James took a breath. "But at this time, we just can't bring ourselves to care. Because whether you care or not- whether Harry cares or not- he is still our son, and we will not oppose our own son, despite whatever the truth of his actions may be. I'm sorry if we've disappointed you, Albus, but please believe me when I say that you have disappointed us so much more in the last few months," James declared as he turned and headed to the door.

The resounding slam the door made as it shut was the only sound in the office, as Dumbledore watched the door sadly, almost hoping, that his old students would realize the error of their ways… would return.

* * *

"The food is delicious," Harry complimented reluctantly, as he sat across from the Count eating a very, very later supper. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of assassination attempts as being part of forging an alliance with Vampires.

The Count merely smiled. "Shall we get down to business, Master Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Sounds good. All right- I know amongst the European Vampire clans, especially those of Eastern Europe, you are rather influential. All I really ask is that you use your influence to attempt to keep your brethren out of the conflict in Britain. I know Lord Voldemort has probably already sent envoys, and attempted to negotiate an alliance, but it is imperative that Vampires stay neutral."

"I imagine you'd be surprised at how few among our number are interested in making a deal with Lord Voldemort. The British Dark Lord's reputation does precede him, and preclude otherwise interested parties from pledging fealty to his banner." The Count took a sip of his beverage, and leaned back in his chair. "I imagine the only clans interested in allying themselves to Lord Voldemort are the Eastern Baltic Clans stretching from Poland to Estonia. The governments of Poland, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia wage constant war with them. On a completely unrelated note, if you ever had an interest in becoming a Vampire hunter, those four countries would be very swift in offering employment."

Harry relaxed a bit, sensing that he was no longer in any danger from the Count. "What is that you are drinking?" Harry asked curiously.

The Count smiled fondly. "Vintage cow blood," he replied with a smile, "And it is exquisite."

Harry blanched, and decided to quickly change topics before his dinner made reappearance. "So when do you think would be the best time to approach them?" Harry asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"I believe the next few days, possibly even as soon as tomorrow would be the best time to negotiate. After that time frame… they may declare their loyalties," the Count explained.

Harry shook his head. "Unfortunately, I can't negotiate with them so soon. I have other things-"

_"Like a raid at the Ministry while pretending to be Lord Voldemort"_ Harry II cut in.

"-That need to be taken care of this weekend. Would early next week still be an acceptable time to negotiate?" Harry asked.

The Count scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It should be," he said finally, "but just in case, you should probably bring more of those grenades. What are they, exactly?"

Those things are Sunlight grenades," Harry explained. "Back home, a few of my business partners and I found a way to store solar energy into a grenade as a way to defeat pockets of unruly Vampires. Though I still know how to make them, it can be a real pain in the arse to store solar energy into a tiny ball. And if done incorrectly, as happened back there," The Count raised an eyebrow, so Harry shifted his explanation, "-The blast radius was too large, as I felt when I slammed into the wall. Anyway, without the proper technology, the use of another could be quite… hazardous to my health," Harry finished.

Their dinner continued on, mostly in silence, and after Harry's second helping of dessert, he finally stood up and held out his hand. "Thank you for your… hospitality, Count, but I'm afraid I must return home. I have an important… business meeting to I need to attend tomorrow morning."

It was an hour later; Harry had forgotten how Vampires preferred really, really, long goodbyes, when Harry was finally able to apparate back home to Britain. He walked into his new hotel, he had changed hotels after Dobby had found him, but this time he hadn't neglected proper warding, and as he passed the lobby, the concierge called out to him.

"Mr. Adams, I'm sorry to bother you, but you have a letter," the nervous man tending desk told him.

Harry stared at him. "Are you all right sir?" he asked concerned.

The concierge lowered his voice. "You are not going to believe this sir, but this letter," he held it out for Harry to take, "Was delivered by an owl."

Harry's eyebrows rose, and he wanted to slap whoever the moron was who'd sent him a letter via owl. "That would be my Ornithologist friend in Portugal," Harry replied as he took the letter. "Have a good day."

"You too, sir," the concierge replied steadily, now that he had been presented with a reasonable explanation for the odd occurrence.

Harry maintained his calm composure until he was up in his room, and made certain neither eyes nor ears were watching him. Then he ripped open the letter, wondering what exactly was so important that someone would risk owl post.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this finds you in good health, son. Your mother and I are writing this to tell you that we have left the Order. We can no longer be a part of an organization that feels one of our children is a danger to society. It was a tough decision, especially considering all the good the Headmaster has done in the past, but we feel it is a necessary one._

_We know your stance towards us- we are not your "real" parents, but despite that, you are still our son, whether you believe it or not. All we have are dreams for Harry Potter, for what his life would have been like, for his many accomplishments. It is with that in mind that we, once more, ask you to dinner for next Saturday._

_Please Harry, we both can not imagine what it must be like, to be you, but we would like to know. Please come to dinner. Please._

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad_


End file.
